


the way you've got me under your spell (don't you keep it all to yourself)

by brokendevil



Series: prompts, one-shots and other drabbles [7]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Clexa Week 2017, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:57:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 36,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10110470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokendevil/pseuds/brokendevil
Summary: “You should text me to let me know you've arrived safe. I’ll worry otherwise,” you offer instead and she looks at you like she can’t believe that what you’ve said is real. You’re not entirely sure what it is that you’ve done to earn that look but it feels nice. “I mean, if you want to.”“I want to,” Lexa assures you and for some reason your heart begins to pound. “You have my number. I’m still holding out for that day that you make the first move, nerd.”[Edited: 07-March-2017]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so this started off as Nerd!Clarke and Popular!Lexa, but what happened was the characters did whatever the hell they wanted to for 12,000 words and now you're all stuck with this.
> 
> There's barely any plot and there's a little fluff thrown in but, you know, this is my attempt at Clexa Week since I'm awful at sticking to deadlines so I hope this will do. Maybe.
> 
> I hope you like it anyway.

**ONE.**

It happens more than you want to admit, the whole watching her thing, but that doesn’t mean you’re about to stop. It’s not that you have a crush on her or anything and even if you did you wouldn’t be ashamed to admit it, you know if it was true. She’s just special, she’s enigmatic and lovely and she has a way with the people that she surrounds herself with. You’ve seen her be ruthless and uncaring, kicking people out of her group of friends for simply being disloyal and you've seen her build people up to better themselves.

She doesn’t hold back about the opinions she has, or the things that she thinks, but she doesn’t do it without a reason and while you’re sure that half of the student body are in love with her, you’re certain the other half hate her too.

You don’t know why but there’s something about her that makes you itch to draw her, makes you ache in the need to capture her, and you know you could always ask her to model for you because when you glance over at her she’s looking at you already. You know you already have her attention even if it's just because she's aware of your staring.

She smiles at you too. A lot, actually. Which is confusing because she’s never anything but a mask of indifference around everyone else that she surrounds herself with, teachers included. But she smiles enough that even your friends have noticed and have taken to teasing you every time that it happens. In your shared classes, in the hallways, in the cafeteria when you’re sitting at separate tables. She looks across at you, far less subtly than you do when pretending you’re not looking at her, and gives you a singular smile that lights her eyes up and gives you pause.

“Hey, nerd,” startles you slightly from your musings and you drop your pencil from where you have been slowly drawing different variations of water. The images flow effortlessly over the page and Bellamy steals it from you with two fingers, sliding it over so he can see it better, and you make an attempt to scold him for it. Truth is though he’s bigger and he’ll probably mess your hair up if you fight him so you slouch back onto the bench because the last thing you need is _more_ people looking at you. “These are pretty awesome.”

“They’re just doodles,” you grumble, annoyed that he’s managed to steal your distraction, and you arch in on yourself at the compliment. They're easier to listen to now but only because it's him and only because you're alone. Still, you reach out for him, “Can I have it back?”

He hums in acceptance and passes you the paper back before reaching into his Letterman and pulling out a granola bar, tearing into it eagerly. You know he’s probably sitting with you because your usual crew of Raven and Murphy are in detention this lunch but you appreciate the company, even if it is unneeded, and you decide to not comment on it. “You’re coming to Octavia’s party on Friday night, right? She’s expecting you.”  

You nod quickly as you turn on the bench slightly and put your art back into your folder. He looks at you for a verbal answer and you roll your eyes before you brush a lock of hair behind your ear with your free hand. “Of course I am,” he finally smiles at your answer and gives a satisfied nod, ignoring repeated calls of his name from the otherside of the room. He waits for you to continue and you want to whine a little; talking exhausts you. Bellamy is, as always, patient and you sigh because you should know by now that he always wins. “What time should I be there?”

“Eight. No seven. I don’t know actually,” he blushes as he stutters over his words and you smile at the handsome action. “Can you come earlier and help me set it up?”

“Sure. I’ll bring everything we need. And yes, that includes everything you’ve probably forgotten in your haste to just buy alcohol,” you laugh and he smiles in relief as you, once again, step in to help. He reaches one muscular arm around you and pulls you into his side for a warm embrace and you blush under the attention, kind of hating it as much as you love it. The movement is embarrassing, reminiscent of having an older brother, and you try to wriggle away from his grasp despite his laughter.

Your eyes glance around the room and catch the glances of the football team, probably wondering what he’s doing sitting next to you _again._ He's made it clear how important you are to them but they never seem to care and you know what they say about you so you look away quickly,not wanting them to see you looking and take the chance to say something. You only notice her at the last minute and then you find you can't look away. She’s giving you and Bellamy a look that you can’t decipher; there isn’t a smile on her face but she looks deep in thought, her white teeth worrying at her lower lip, and when he lets you go she finally looks away.

“Thank you,” Bellamy’s smile widens and he takes a second to look chastised. You know he's probably feeling guilty for making you do more than you ever bargained for at a party you didn’t want to really attend and it makes you giggle to yourself. “I’ll owe you. What do you want?”

You shake your head and look down, mostly to think a little on that, and before you can reply you feel a presence at the table next to Bellamy. When you look up you see Atom waiting by Bellamy’s shoulder and you scowl a little because Atom isn’t like Bellamy or Octavia; Atom is the type of guy who gives himself a nickname that’s so good nobody knows his real name and is completely aware that people like _them_ don’t sit with people like you.

“Didn’t realise you were doing charity work these days, Blake,” you know he’s referring to you and you put a hand on Bellamy’s thigh to stop him from doing something idiotic. He always thinks with his fists first but you can fight your own battles and he’s already on thin ice with his short temper. “Come on. Coach wants us for a meeting before the game next week. You can talk to your loser girlfriend later.”

Atom doesn’t look at you and you don’t care about that. You’re not low on the social ladder by any means; your friends are all fairly popular and you’re invited to parties but you’re _quiet._ You like being quiet. That doesn’t translate well when your friends would rather holler and shout and blow things up.

“Do you need a ride home tonight?”

When you turn to Bellamy he’s already standing and you shake your head, smiling a little when he rubs his hand over your shoulder. He taps quickly against your collarbone with his finger in his silent way of asking you to talk to him, to not retreat into yourself, and you meet his eyes. “It’s fine. I’m staying behind with Murphy to finish up some work,” you say softly and you can’t help but smirk widely when he pulls a face. Not many people in the world enjoy John Murphy’s company and Bellamy isn’t an exception. “He’ll take me back to mine.”

“Okay,” he accepts and you like the deep rumble his voice makes. “I’ll see you Friday, Griff.”

He gives you an affection push to your face with his knuckles which makes you laugh a little and then turns away. You watch as he leaves and how he falls back into being the jock the school knows and loves, an image that you’re used to after so many years being his friend. There’s jeering and loud cheers and it fades down the hallway as you shuffle under the table to grab your belongings so that you can leave too. There’s still a smile on your face that Bellamy has put there and you don’t know how he manages to pull it from you but you’re thankful for it; truthfully you’re thankful for him and his strength.

When you look up *just once more, always once more) you see her looking at you again and, while she gives you the smile that she’s always willing to give, it’s not quite as bright as usual.

* * *

All you can think is that she never approaches you.

In the three long years you’ve been attending school together, she’s never approached you or made any move to even come near your side of the classroom but ow she is and it's scary.

You’re in biology when she sways towards your bench, all hips and legs and...Well. You cast a helpless look at your partner, Raven, as she approaches but it doesn’t seem to do anything because Raven simply continues to copy down the work she had missed the previous class. You have nowhere else to look but at her in all of her glory. There’s a moment where you glance around the class to see if people are watching, ready to laugh at you, but her best friend Lincoln seems to be busy finding the right light for a selfie with Octavia and Anya seems to have face-planted into her workbook as Costia, the girl next to her, taps away at her phone.

Nobody is looking and you're still terrified.

“Hi, Lexa,” you break first because she doesn't look like she's going to and she raises both of her eyebrows, almost as surprised as you are that it was your voice that tore through the silence. “Are you okay?”

She quirks a cute little smile at that and puts her hands in the pockets of her short leather jacket before she nods and pushes up onto her toes a little. “I’m fine. Do you know Octavia?”

“I...Well, yes,” you say, glancing across at the girl in question, before back to Lexa. She looks nervous and you’re not sure why but you wait it out anyway. Raven is still scribbling something to your side and you bite at the corner of your lip when Lexa doesn’t seem to be any more forthcoming about what she needs. “What about her?”

“It’s her birthday this weekend. I was wondering if you knew what I could get her,” she asks and you feel a slight twist in your stomach that you don’t know how to place. You’re not jealous because you don’t have a thing for Lexa, or Octavia, but you didn’t think that they were close enough to buy gifts for one another either. “You know her better than me and since you’re, you know so close with Bellamy, I figured you’d be the best to ask. What does she like?”

There’s something behind her words that you can’t name and it makes your brows furrow slightly. You shrug because you were kind of struggling with what to buy Octavia too, whether you know Bellamy or not, because you're not exactly super close with her and he's as useless as a rock when it came to gifts.

“She likes make up,” you shrug and Lexa sighs like she knew that already, which she probably did considering they're friend and you bite your lip. You don’t know. You’re closer to Raven and Monty and Murphy than you are to Octavia and you try to look as apologetic as you can when you continue. “She’s into vintage things too; movies, t-shirts, those big prints you can buy. I suppose something like that could be cool.”

She looks at you for a second longe before she nods once. She moves her hand moving out of her pocket to trace against your desk and it’s that movement that seems to get Raven’s attention finally, your friend moving a little and turning to look at the new arrival. She says nothing at all but you know her well enough to know that there’s something brewing in her brilliant mind.

“Are you going to the party?” Lexa continues rather than agreeing to your suggestions and you look around again for a few moments, noting Raven’s questioning gaze, and you give her a little nod because it’s the only reply you actually have. She seems to have taken all of your words. “I’ll see you on Friday then.”

“I guess,” you murmur and then your stupid brain betrays you and you plow on. “We have, like, three classes together before then though. So you’ll see me before too.”

She smiles at that, one of those wonderful smiles that she gives to just you, and presses her hip against the desk so she’s leaning a little closer. “I know,” she replies coyly and her eyes roll when your teacher walks in because you both know that she was going to say something else. You want to know what she was going to say but instead she knocks once against the table and walks away.

It’s blissfully silent before Raven decides she misses the sound of her own voice.

“Well that took her long enough,” and you assume she means Lexa leaving but there’s a smile on her face you can’t figure out so you leave it, not needing another Raven Reyes rant.

* * *

You sit to the side as the party unfolds and you smile to yourself, proud for planning it so well in the short amount of time that Bellamy gave to you, and you listen to Octavia’s laugh because that's what matters. As always their mom is somewhere else, doing who knows what, and the teenagers take advantage of it; screaming and shouting and drinking too much alcohol without supervision. You’re not sure where Murphy and Jasper manage to obtain so much alcohol but you’re not going to question it -- the less you know, the less you can be implicated.

“Have I ever told you how much I love you, Griff?” Bellamy bellows and you flinch away from his loud voice as it smashes through your thoughts. His breath smells like beer and his eyes are glazed with something more than alcohol but his smile is charming and he’s made the time to come and find you in the middle of a party. It’s nice. “Octavia is loving this.”

People in the room are wearing masks that cover their eyes, a last minute decision you’d had made while in the art room with Murphy--(he’d jumped at the chance to design over 100 masks instead of doing his art assignment)--and it seems to have gone down well. Some litter the floor, of course they do, but most people are enjoying the anonymity of the whole thing. Bellamy’s is on the top of his head, pushing back his curls, and you laugh a little at the outline of glitter than has rubbed off on his sharp cheekbones.

You turn your attention to where Octavia is on Lincoln’s shoulders and fighting with Anya who is on some guys that you think might be called Quint or Flint...or probably Josh, you don’t know. She’s laughing and they’re surrounded by pillows on the floor but you know someone is going to get hurt and you tense a little, wondering if you should step in, but then Bellamy's hand is on your arm and you try to pay attention.

“Are you going to come and talk to anyone? You been sat on this chair all night,” he continues, oblivious to your wandering attention, and you shake your head like he knows you were going to. You’re probably going to head home soon but you do like surrounding yourself in the effects of your party planning. You like watching your ideas come to life. “Clarke.”

You hate that particular sound. The tone his voice takes on when he’s getting tired, when he wants you to just...join in. But you can’t, and you really don’t want to,  so instead you lean up and press a kiss against his cheek. “There’s a girl in the kitchen who has been trying to get your attention all night,” you deflect, enjoying the way his eyes light up at the information. “Go and work your charm somewhere else, soldier.”

He hesitates for a few seconds, torn between looking out for you and getting laid, but his hormones seem to win out and he gives you a cheeky smirk that has you pulling the royal blue mask back over his eyes.

“Try and speak to a few people, okay?” Bellamy tries again, adjusting the mask, and you give him a tight smile that lets him know you’d rather jab a paintbrush into your eye. “Thank you again, Clarke. Seriously. This is totally the party O deserves.”

His love for his sister warms you and you’re reminded of how lucky you are that he holds you in that wonderful part of his heart too.

“Go,” you urge when the girl looks over again and he moves away while tugging at the collar of his shirt like an absolute idiot.

You watch him walk away and jolt slightly at the sight of Lexa watching you from the opposite wall. She has a dark red mask over her eyes but you know it's her. You can't read what she’s thinking in the dim light and, for the first time, she doesn’t give you a smile before she turns away to talk to the group of girls surrounding her.

* * *

Octavia ends up finding you a little later and her enthusiasm entices you to stay for a few minutes longer. Sometimes she’s a little too much for you but you like that she genuinely wants you there and while she doesn’t really spend much of her time at your side you know that her gaze always comes back to you. Murphy is off with Jasper somewhere (and you’re sure Monty has fallen into trouble with them too) and your only other form of companionship is currently wrapped up with the swimming captain Finn Collins. You laugh to yourself when she sends you a thumbs up and a head quirk, asking you silently if you want to sit with them, but you shake your head.

You’d made the mistake once before of hanging out with both Finn and Raven at the same time and inevitably becoming a third wheel. You like how they are together though and it’s cute how wrapped up in one another they are, even if sometimes Finn says things to you that probably border on inappropriate.

“So I bought her some make up. It went down well,” Lexa says as she stands next to you in the quiet kitchen and you inhale softly at her presence. You’re still not sure why she keeps making conversations with you but you’re not exactly going to ask her and so you tighten the grip you have on your own fingers. “Thanks for the advice. What did you get her?”

“Isn’t this party enough?” You try and joke but you're blushing which gives you away. You turn to avoid the impressed look that Lexa is shooting you because you’re not sure why but it makes you feel something you don’t usually associate with her. It makes you feel  _good._

“Ah, so the masks and having us drink out of plastic wine glasses is a _‘Griffin Exclusive_ ’, huh?”

You’re not sure what that means so you shrug shyly and look down at the plastic glass, wondering if it is a little too much. Octavia had said earlier that it was perfect but now you’re not so sure. “I suppose,” you say quietly because it's your turn to speak and she steps closer so you assume you need to talk a little louder and clear your throat. “I just thought it might be something fun, that’s all.”

“It’s cool,” Lexa nods and you can’t help but look up at her, your eyes catching hers behind the pretty mask she's wearing and you focus on he fact that she’s biting her lip. It’s a distracting move, her lip pulled beneath her teeth, and you find yourself looking for a few seconds too long. “So I’m glad I saw you.”

“You are?” It’s not your fault that you sound so disbelieving, right? You and Lexa just don’t talk. You’re halfway sure that she doesn’t even know what classes it is that you actually share and the only real connection that you have is the weak ties you share between friends. There’s no real reason for her to be glad to see you.

She looks a little taken aback at your words but you’ve not known Lexa to be anything less than confident and she shrugs before looking down at her heeled feet. “Sure. Bellamy was talking to Lincoln about how you always throw a good party. I came prepared to be blown away,” she says with a small smile and you wonder what else he could have said that prompted her to listen. Because why would she care about something you do?

“Glad I lived up to your expectations then.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Oh,” you don’t know why but that stings a little and you retreat back a few steps, your arms folding across your stomach. Everyone _seems_ to be having a good time but that could just be the alcohol.

Shit.

There must be a look on your face because Lexa shuffles closer and you don’t try and move away because that’ll be too obvious and you think she might be trying to get your attention. You’re not sure what she’s going to say but you just hope she isn’t going to do something like laugh at your attempts at hosting a party for people like her. 

“I was kidding, Clarke,” she says, clicking your name on her tongue and she looks stricken at her own words. “Hey.”

You know the types of parties that Lexa attends and they don’t include silly masks adorned with fucking glitter.

Why didn’t Bellamy say anything to you?

“Sorry,” you say because you don’t know what else to do really. You’re not willing to apologise for your planning on such short notice, because you know that you’re good and that Octavia was thankful, but you are a little disappointed that Lexa Woods isn’t having a good time at your party. 

“No, I didn’t mean --”

“Lexa come on,” Octavia shouts through to you both and the girl at your side jumps enough to make your eyes widen. “We’re doing body shots and your stomach is the only one I really want to see besides Lincoln’s.”

You look away because you know you’re not going to be invited to that part of the party. You rarely are. People don’t always want to have you as a partner--not because of your looks, you know you’re blessed in that sense, but because they don’t know who you are. They don’t think to choose you over one of their friend because, in their world, you don’t exist.

Mostly it’s an embarrassing process for all involved.

Octavia smiles at you encouragingly though, not wanting you feel excluded, and you warm a little at her soft gaze. “You wanna come, Clarke?”

"Oh, no, thank you," you know you're blushing so you shake your head. “I’m probably just going to call my mom to come and get me soon. It's okay, you have fun.”

“She looks disappointing but not surprised at your answer and taps her fingers against the door-frame. "Okay but make sure you text me or Bell when you get home. You coming, Lex?”

"One minute," Lexa looks at you before she continues and you don’t know why. She seems to wait for you to say something and when you don’t, she sighs. “Yeah, okay. But I’m only doing them with you. I don’t want some random person licking me.”

They leave the room without looking at you and you take your phone out to text your mom.

You’re kind of over this night now.

* * *

When Lexa sits next to you in biology on the Monday following the party you don’t know how to react.

She doesn’t seem to think anything of it as she slumps down, sighing as she pulls out her books, and you stare at her for long seconds as you try and work out what she’s doing. Octavia and Lincoln are giggling from their desk and you’re pretty sure that Anya’s face is permanently attached to the wood, but nobody reacts to her sitting next to you.

It’s like the week before; only this time Lexa looks set on staying and Raven isn’t at school because of something with her leg.

“So Harper is out and I saw Raven isn’t here so I thought I’d sit with you today. I don’t think I can deal with Anya’s snark or Lincoln pretending he isn’t drawing Octavia’s face in his workbook for a double lesson,” Lexa says and you still don’t react, you’re still unsure what she wants. There’s a few awkward seconds where all you do is blink at her while she pulls out a pen and she rolls her eyes at you before breaking the silence. “Listen, I want to apologise too. For making you feel shitty or whatever at the party. It really was an awesome idea.”

You shake your head so she knows it's okay and shrug one shoulder at her, your lips pressing together tightly before you speak. “It’s okay, you didn’t make me feel bad,” you lie. You’re not about to tell her that you spent the rest of the night scolding yourself for making _Lexa Woods_ wear a fucking glitter mask like that was a ‘cool’ idea.

“I did,” she counters and she’s right so you just continue to flick at the corner page of your workbook, bending the paper beneath your thumb. “I thought it was different. I’ve lost count how many parties I’ve been to because they all blur into one mess of football players and kegs and cheerleaders pretending that the whole room isn’t looking at them. Yours stands out to me.”

“Okay,” is all you say because she kind of makes you lose your words and it’s not exactly hard to remember how far removed you are from her world when she’s sat next to you in her tight, tight clothing and her expensive perfume. “Thanks.”

“Are you going to be hosting any others?”

She sounds like she’s trying hard to keep a conversation with you going and you don’t know why but you know it’s rude to just stand up and walk away so you keep your eyes on your workbook because that’s easier. “Um, no. Bellamy only asked me because he is awful with timing anything at all. If I hadn’t helped he would still have been buying stuff for the party when people were arriving.”

“Mm, okay,” she hums and you keep yourself occupied by opening your workbook and focusing on a picture of mitochondria. “So have you been together long?”

“Wait, what?”

When you turn to her Lexa looks like she hasn’t said anything at all. She’s playing on her phone as you wait for the teacher to come into class and she opens up her camera to check her hair, her lips pouting slightly at the image, and she fixes the part she has over her shoulder. You think, for a second, that if you don’t reply then maybe you can pretend that she didn’t say anything at all with how calm she is. But then she puts her phone away and turns that gaze to you and you know she's waiting for your reply. You note that she hasn’t sent you a smile today and then reprimand yourself for noticing that at all.

“You and Bellamy. You might think you’re going for subtle but it’s kind of obvious,” she shrugs like she holds all of the answers in the universe and if you weren’t busy trying to control the blush that’s overtaking your face then you might have laughed. “When you’re together it’s pretty obvious anyway.”

Part of you wants to play along but then you think about having to pretend you’re dating Bellamy and a cold shiver runs down your spine. Just, no. “Me and Bellamy aren’t together,” you say quietly and you ignore the snort she lets out. “He’s my best friend.”

“Right. Lincoln is mine but I don’t look at him like you two look at one another,” she notes and the tone that you’ve heard before is back, the one you can’t place. “You don’t have to hide anything from me, you know?”

You wonder where this is coming from. In freshman year you remember Bellamy losing his virginity to Anya, Lexa's friend, and you wonder if maybe that’s why she’s asking so many questions. Maybe Anya wants to see if Bellamy is single again.

No, you think. Anya isn’t one for shy questions and you’re pretty sure Lexa doesn’t care enough about those types of things.

“Well we’re not,” you shrug because it’s true and you’re confused why she’s pushing it so much. “And even if we were something it’s not like me and you are close enough that I’d talk about it with you, you know?”

Lexa looks hurt for a split second and you try and not feel bad. You’re not friends, you live in totally different worlds, but she still furrows her brows like what you’ve said to her has stung. Before she can really say anything in reply your teacher is walking in and the class goes silent, enough that you turn to look back at your book and Lexa looks away.

When she leaves as soon as the bell rings, you feel bad.

When she doesn’t send you a smile that day, you feel worse.

* * *

“Hey Griff,” Octavia approaches you at the end of school and you smile politely, your fingers holding onto your bag a little tighter as you note the group that she's with. Nobody is ever outwardly rude to you, and nobody particularly pays you much attention either, but you know you’re not entirely well liked and it makes you feel tense when they look at you. “I just wanted to say thank you for the other night. It was amazing.”

You murmur that it’s okay but she’s already wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace and you hug her back because, well, it feels nice. You’re not exactly ‘friends’ with Octavia in the traditional sense but she’s loyal and sweet and she’s always been nice to you despite her social standing and her cheerleading friends hating you.

“I’m glad you had a good time,” you smile and turn away a little when you hear Atom shouting for Octavia to hurry up. 

Behind her back Octavia flips the guy off and puts her hand on your bicep so she can turn her complete focus on you. “You left early. Lexa was asking about you.”

“She was?”

It only lasts a second but Octavia’s eyes light up in complete amusement at your question and you furrow back into yourself in confusion. “Yeah, of course she was. The only reason she went was because she knew you were going to be there. You know that, right?” Atom makes more impatient noises behind her but Octavia seems to be entirely focused on the way you look at her in confusion and she laughs kindly. “Oh, Clarke. Really?”

“Really, what?”

“You’re both impossible,” she snickers and then leans forward to brush a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Listen, I didn’t say this but maybe the next time that Lexa smiles at you, you should smile back.”

“I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. I do smile back. I mean I do sometimes,” you shoot back, frustrated. “Octavia.”

“Trust me, alright? And the next time that she wants to sit next to you in bio, let her. She’s nice,” the girl shrugs and gives you another kind smile, her eyes still carrying that same light from before even though she’s narrowed them to look at you deeply.

You don’t say anything more on the matter and Octavia shakes her head at you fondly before she leaves, her friends trailing behind her like you’re so used to seeing them do.

* * *

Taking Octavia’s advice you smile at Lexa first the next day and you watch as she fumbles with her phone a little before smiling back at you with a faint blush on her cheekbones.

You think that maybe you telling her you weren’t friends might have been a little harsh, especially when you feel her eyes on you as you leave the cafeteria.

* * *

Lexa is standing next to her locker when you work up the courage to approach her and Anya’s little smirk doesn’t go unnoticed. You’re not sure if the blonde really knows who you are but she actually winks at you as you walk closer and she moves to leave you two alone, a soft laugh echoing behind her. You’re not sure what that means but Lexa has her gaze trained on you and you’re pretty sure you’ve forgotten the exact reason you’re standing in front of her because of it.

“Hey,” she says softly and you watch her fingers adjust her bag over her shoulder, you notice how it’s left a little red mark on the skin where her tank doesn’t quite cover her completely and you wish you knew why that matters to you so much. “Is everything okay?”

“No. I mean yeah,” you shake your head and she laughs as you fumble through the English language, struggling to put words together. “I wanted to say sorry. For the other day in biology. I didn’t mean to make you feel bad or anything.”

It sounds so similar to what she said to you that day that you both pause but it’s Lexa who breaks first, smiling easily. “It’s fine. It’s none of my business who you do or don’t date. I was just being curious, that’s all.”

“I know,” you nod and it’s not supposed to sound unkind. She was just trying to get to know you. “But me and Bell really aren’t dating. Sometimes people say it to him to tease him because of, you know, who I am and things. He mostly ignores it but I just get annoyed about it, I guess, and I took it out on you. I should never have assumed you were being an asshole."

She clicks her tongue at that and you look up at her. “What do you mean _who you are_?”

“Uh. I’m me,” you blink, unsure how else to explain it. She knows who you are; you're the girl with the highest grades and the mom who can get her into any college. You're the girl who cries in class sometimes when watching movies, or reading familiar passages, because you're the girl who misses her dad and who knows the elements of the periodic table like she knows how to mix colors in art class. You're not one of _them._ “And Bellamy is, like, the most popular person in school. Except for maybe you.”

“So?”

She looks so confused that you ache for her a little but instead you shrug, not willing to really explain why dating someone like you would make Bellamy’s life hard because that's just sad. You remember in freshman year when you had a crush on him, one that lasted six ridiculous days, and you wonder what would have happened if you’d acted on it. Nothing, probably. Bellamy is nice; he’d have said something suave and convinced you out of it you’re sure. Which is good because the more you think about dating him now, the grosser it feels. He’s your brother, your family. It’s wrong.

“Hey, if we were dating it wouldn’t matter to me what other people say,” she tells you and you laugh at her because this is _Lexa_ talking to you. Why would she even think about something like that? You know she wants to make you feel better about the self-deprecating words you’ve just spoken and your heart grows a little at her attempts. “No, really Clarke. If you were mine then I wouldn’t keep you some secret. A girl like you deserves to be shown off.”

“Right,” you say but she sounds so serious that you don’t try and laugh at her again in case it hurts her feelings. “Anyway, we got off topic. I just wanted to say sorry and that if, you know, you did want to sit next to me in biology sometimes then I’d like that.”

It feels weird to give the most popular girl in school your _permission_ to sit next to you but she beams at you, a nice change from the disappointed look that was gracing her face a few seconds ago. “Yeah, I’d like that too.”

“So,” you start gently. “Friends?”

She looks away from you for a few seconds, her eyes rolling as she shakes her head to herself, and you think you’ve done something wrong; especially when she swallows thickly.

Wait, did you read the signals wrong? She said she’d like that, right?

Before you can overthink too much she looks back at you, her eyes bright. “Sure. Friends.”

**TWO.**

Nothing much changes after that interaction except that Lexa and Anya now sit with you and Raven and, sometimes, Lexa will speak to you in the hallways. You still attend the same parties because Bellamy is insistent on you having a social life and Lexa seems to be _everywhere_ but you don’t always talk. It’s neither of your faults; you know Lexa tries but she always has Lincoln or Anya or Costia distracting her attention from you.

And you don’t mind really. It’s always more fun to hang out with Murphy at parties because of his running commentary and, when things get a little too much, he’s always happy to take you home because he doesn’t care if he’s there or not. You think Murphy sometimes only goes to these things so that he doesn’t have to be at home but you don’t ask questions and he doesn’t give you any clues.

“She’s looking at you again,” Murphy grumps from where he’s sitting next to you. His head is tilted back on the couch and his gaze is focused on the ceiling but he says it like the person 'looking at you' is distracting him. You know he isn’t drunk but he’s nursing a bottle of beer to stop the onslaught of questions he’ll get about not drinking and when you look at him you can see that it’s pretty much full.

You know it’s because he’s told himself he’ll drive you home tonight and you love him for it.

“Who?”

He looks at you with a painfully plain look and you cringe slightly. “Lexa,” he says like you should already know the answer and you roll your eyes. “Whatever. She's looking.”

“She’s probably wondering what I’m doing here,” you say and take a second to look around the room. It’s full of the type of people you really don’t like and you can’t see Bellamy, Octavia or Raven which would make you feel more anxious if you didn’t have a seat next to Murphy. The football players have taken residence near the fireplace and Lexa is stood with Costia near them, her own drink as full as Murphy’s. “What _are_ we doing here?”

Murphy snorts, “You’re whipped for Bellamy and gave in.”

“I am not!”

He continues laughing at that because he knows he’s right in a way. Bellamy is family and you know you’d do anything for him, especially when he pouts, but you always end up regretting it because he wanders off to make out with anyone female and you’re always left bored, alone and missing your paints. “You know, Griff, just because he’s practically your brother doesn’t mean that you have to do everything he says,” Murphy continues and he finally lifts his head from the couch. “You could have said no and we could have been marathoning Saw tonight.”

“I hate Saw. It has no purpose beyond gratuitous gore,” you defend and he shrugs like that wasn’t the point he was making at all. You think back to the amount of debates you’ve had with him over life, and consequences to actions, and a person's ability to justify crime and you know he’ll win on what movie to watch just so you can put the world to rights once it’s over. “He just worries about me. He thinks I should be more social.”

“Yeah and sitting here with me, not talking to anyone, is really being sociable Blondie.”

You scowl at him for that and shove his arm a little because as much as you like sitting with him he’s just being a little shit because he can. It’d be annoying if it was anyone else. “Should we go?”

“God, yes,” he groans and puts his drink down quickly before standing up just as fast and slicking his hair back. “Just let me go and say bye to Emori and then we’ll go.”

You don’t know who Emori is to Murphy but you do know he’s been mentioning her name a lot more recently and you wonder if perhaps your ‘bro-nights’ (as you call them) will soon be coming to an end. You hope so; not in a bad way but in the sense that Murphy deserves to be happy and when he mentions Emori's name he actually smiles.

When you get up to put your jacket on you feel a movement near you and you look up to catch Lexa as walks closer to you. Costia is watching her from the fireplace and you only look at her for long enough to note the clench of her jaw before you’re focusing on Lexa again. She pouts a little as she stands in front of you, “Are you leaving?”

“Um, yes,” you stutter out, fumbling as you try and put your coat on. “This just isn’t really my scene and I think Murphy wanted to go home as soon as we arrived, so.”

She sounds disappointed when she says, “Oh,” and you have to stop yourself from asking why. It’s not like you’ve spoken to one another all night. “Should Murphy be driving if he’s been drinking?”

“He hasn’t,” and it’s not a lie but she still looks worried so you continue to ease her mind. “He just holds a drink so that nobody bothers him all night. Believe me if he wanted to drink he would have already had some of Monty’s moonshine.”

Lexa grimaces and you wonder if she’s ever tried it. You haven’t but you do know what it smells like and it’s not something you’re willing to put into your body. “Okay,” she says and then she takes a deep breath like she’s preparing herself for something. “I kind of wish you --”

“I told you she was looking at you,” Murphy drawls from your left and you wrinkle your nose, annoyed at his presence already. “Anyway, we can go. Or I’ll just go if someone has managed to change your mind in the thirty seconds I’ve been gone.”

Lexa looks completely lost and you sort of want to hug her because the look on her face is making you smile but you don’t and instead you turn to Murphy. “Get the car, I’m coming,” you say and he rolls his eyes at you but it’s fond and he salutes before he leaves. When you look back at Lexa she’s watching as Murphy exits the room and you try to get her attention back. “Sorry about him, he’s...Well, he’s Murphy.”

“That’s fine,” Lexa says like he hasn’t just embarrassed the both of you a few seconds earlier. “I’ll guess see you at school, Griffin.”

“Clarke,” you say before you can even stop yourself and Lexa tilts her head at you curiously which only means you have to continue or she’ll prod at you about it another time. “I prefer it when you call me Clarke.”

She blushes at that, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip, and you sigh at how nice it looks. “Okay,” she nods and you don’t have to look to know Costia has grown bored and is starting to make her way over to gain Lexa's attention again. “Bye, Clarke.”

“Bye,” you mutter, completely mortified by yourself and you escape quickly.

In a few minutes you’re in Murphy’s car and you ignore the pointed teasing he throws at you about Lexa because, really, what is everyone trying to prove?

* * *

“Clarke, listen, I know you’re super smart and this stuff comes really easy for you but you’re going to have to slow down because my brain hurts,” Lexa whines and in the few weeks it’s taken for you to become friends, you’ve grown to love that noise. She’s smarter than you ever gave her credit for in the past but when it comes to biology she just doesn’t seem to be interested. It’s taken a few glances at her work in class to know she that isn’t taking notes so she probably needs some help. Not a lot, of course, but if you see her write that the nucleus is the powerhouse of the cell one more time you’re going to throw her through a window.

“Come on, this is really basic stuff and I know you know all of this already or we wouldn’t be in the same class,” you urge her and she glares at you coldly but you know she doesn’t mean it. You don’t know why she’s acting like she can’t do any of this because she’s been in your biology class all year and she hasn’t seemed to have struggled until recently. “I promise, we’ll finish this chapter and then you can talk about whatever you want.”

“Did you really kiss Niylah Campbell last year?” Your eyes widen at that question and she looks just as shocked as you are that she’s said it but she kind of just braces herself to go with it and marches on. “Because Costia said that you did. And it’s not like I mind that you kiss girls but for someone who calls herself a nerd or whatever you should know that people really want you.”

You feel a heat inside of you that isn’t associated with how Lexa usually makes you feel and there’s a pressure behind your eyes you’re not willing to admit to feeling. “Why does it matter who I kiss?”

“Because I don’t like people talking crap about you if it’s not true,” she shrugs. She looks annoyed _for_ you and you’re not sure why that makes you feel so safe but it does and you like it.

“Oh. Well, thanks,” you finally say but she still looks irritated and you’re not sure how to fix it so you decide to tell her the honest truth. “But yeah, we kissed if that settles any rumors. Most people know about it. I mean, it wasn't a secret that we dated over the summer between sophomore and junior year.”

She still doesn’t settle but she looks less angry and you count that as a win. “What happened? You don’t have to tell me,” she asks and you decide that it’s only fair if you’re open with her since she’s trying so hard to get to know you.

“We just broke up. It wasn’t anything major that either of us did. I mean, she’s never seen or even read any of the Harry Potter series which I put down as a big cross in the ‘Cons’ column but that’s all. We’re still friends.”

Lexa says nothing for a few seconds and you watch as she traces something around the picture of a cell you drew for her. You think the conversation is over but she looks up, catching your eyes. “I like girls too,” she whispers and you nod because, well, what else can you do? “Just so you know. I mean, I want you to know that.”

“Okay,” you say, hoping that she wasn’t expecting more of a reaction for her coming out to you. Part of you thinks you should make a bigger deal out of it but you’re in the library and you don’t know how many of her friends know so you stay quiet. “Can you tell me what the main function of the ribosomes is?”

“No,” she shrugs, annoying you, and you’re about to tell her that when she rolls her eyes at you. “You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met, Clarke Griffin, but you really don’t have a clue do you?”

That, you think, is just rude and you frown at her. “Lexa…”

“Protein,” she snaps, dropping her pencil to her book. “They make protein or whatever. I have to go.”

“What, why?”

Lexa laughs at that but it sounds hollow and the noise makes you sit quietly and you watch her as she packs up her things. “When you figure it out, let me know,” she says, confusing you even more. “I’ll catch you around.”

When you look down at the little picture of a cell you’ve drawn you see that she’s wrote her number next to it with a little comment of _“_ **_The only cell_ ** _number_ **_you need_ ** _,”_ and you want to smile, because she can be such a dork, but you don't.

One day she’ll stop walking away from you and start making sense.

* * *

You skip out on the next few invites to parties that you get because you want to get ahead with your schoolwork and the thought of being surrounded by so many people makes you feel more nervous than ever before. Ever since becoming friends with Lexa you’ve noticed people looking at you more and it makes it difficult to sit quietly with Monty or Murphy when you can hear your name on people's lips. It’s weird because you don’t always hang out with Lexa but you’re sure you’re not just being paranoid. People really are looking at you more. And, for once, you ignore Bellamy and his long eyelashes and stand your ground.

It’s not late, barely ten p.m the last time that you looked at your phone, but you still glare at the door when the bell rings and you pause the Netflix documentary you’re watching. You’ve seen it before but that’s not the point and you throw off the various blankets you have over your legs in favor of greeting a guest you don’t want, your feet stomping a little the entire way.

“You weren’t at the party,” Lexa says before you’ve fully opened the door and it takes you nearly a full minute to compute that she not only knows where you live but, judging from the lack of cars on your street, she’s walked to your house.

You scratch at the back of your neck as you take in her appearance; she’s wearing jeans that you suspect might be a size too small on purpose and a green shirt that leaves her sizes completely exposed. The lace of her bra stops you from really forming any kind of thought together so instead you lean against your door frame and try and act like you’re not bothered that she’s standing right there.

“I don’t go to every party Bellamy hosts,” you say and she reminds you of Murphy when she rolls her eyes at you. “I don’t.”

“I’ve seen you at every Blake bash since freshman year,” she says, giving you pause. You really don’t go to every single one, especially when it’s only the football team there, but she seems adamant and you don’t feel like arguing when she looks like _that_ and you’re wearing flannel pajamas.

“Still,” you shrug. You’re not sure why she’s so determined but she steps closer to you and you grip the door a little tighter as  the scent of her expensive perfume begins to overwhelm you. “Sometimes they can be a little too much and Murphy is going with Emori tonight. I thought I’d give him some space.”

She nods at that like she knows what you’re talking about and you want to tell her that her phone keeps beeping with obvious messages because she doesn’t seem to hear it. “I just wanted to make sure that you were okay.”

“I’m fine,” you squeak because her voice has gone low and it’s kind of distracting. Suddenly the documentary about killer whales in captivity is far less appealing and you wish you knew why. “Thanks. How did you know where I lived?”

“Octavia,” she supplies and you should have known that she would have been behind it. “Her and Raven were more than happy to help me out.”

You chuckle at that and play with the wood on the door as your eyes meet hers. “You sound like a stalker,” you say and she smiles before she raises her own hand and presses it against the door near your fingers.

“I know. But you’ve been making this whole getting-to-know-you thing very difficult to not seem one sided,” Lexa replies and you’re sure she’s hinting at something, you know she’s being a little passive aggressive, but you’re not brave enough to ask her to clarify what she means. “Come to the party with me, Clarke.”

The thought of going with Lexa is almost as nerve-wracking as _actually_ going to the Blake house tonight but she seems to understand when you shake your head. Even if she does look a little disappointed. “Not tonight,” you say softly and you’re quiet enough that you can hear her sigh. “I told my mom I’d be home when she finishes work so I really can’t.”

“What time does she finish?”

“Midnight.”

“So you could be mine for a little while,” she tries to argue and there it is again:  _that tone._ The feeling that there’s something more she wants to say but even thinking about it makes you nervous and you swallow down the questions. When you shake your head again she whispers something to herself as she looks down and you feel kind of bad. “Fine. Okay. It was worth a shot, right?”

You’re not sure if she wants you to answer that so you just smile at her. “You should text me to let me know you've arrived safe. I’ll worry otherwise,” you offer instead and she looks at you like she can’t believe that what you’ve said is real. You’re not entirely sure what it is that you’ve done to earn that look but it feels nice. “I mean, if you want to.”

“I want to,” Lexa assures you and for some reason your heart begins to pound. “You have my number. I’m still holding out for that day that you make the first move, nerd.”

She doesn’t say anything else and, instead, she waves at you before turning away. Her high heels click on the path as she walks and you kind of love the sound.

You don’t close your door until she’s out of sight and your heart doesn’t stop racing, even as you climb into bed an hour later.

* * *

“I think Lexa Woods likes me,” you say one afternoon and the reaction you get isn’t what you were expecting in the slightest. Octavia looks up from where she has her head resting on Bellamy’s stomach and the siblings pause their PlayStation game just before both of them start laughing heartily. Murphy, from behind his book, gives you the drollest look that he can manage and even Raven manages to separate from Finn for long enough to give you, what might be, the longest ‘duh’ in history.

**THREE.**

As it turns out you’re not the only one surprised that Lexa might like you. Bellamy is too.

In his defense he doesn’t really register much outside of what’s going on with him and his life. But still, you cling to the fact that you’re not alone in your disbelief.

“She’s liked you for a long time,” Raven says and you can ignore how Finn eagerly agrees because his involvement doesn’t count. He literally agrees with everything that Raven says. “I mean all of her staring totally gave it away that she’s obsessed with you but she’s been giving you some serious signals recently. Haven’t you noticed at all?”

No. You haven’t.

“You are kind of all she talks about,” Finn says and, as reluctant as it is, Bellamy nods along too. You’re not sure how close Bellamy and Finn are to Lexa so you narrow your eyes in disbelief as you shake your head. This conversation is verging on ridiculous. “She mentions you to Lincoln like all of the time and you know how guys love to gossip.”

No. You didn't know that but you do now.

“I told you like a month ago that she likes you,” Octavia says from her spot on the floor. Once everyone realized you were being serious in your confusion they’d sat up, surrounding you gently, but Octavia had taken great delight in stretching out on the comfortable rug. “Remember?”

No. You can’t recall.

Your mind is spinning a little and you look down at your fingers nervously, unsure how to act about something like this in front of the most confident people that you know. You know they’re going to tell you to just go for it but you’re not sure what it is that you’re supposed to be going for and you feel your shoulders tense up, only relaxing when Bellamy places his hand there and taps his finger as a small signal for you to feel comfortable and talk.

“She’s nice,” you start before you pause to lick your lips. They know she’s nice, everyone knows Lexa is nice, but you can’t really follow up on that because you’ve clearly been supposed to be following a story that you have had no idea was even being told. “Maybe she’s just grateful for my help in biology.”

Murphy snickers, “I bet she is.”

“Nah, she’s passing all of her classes. You might be smart, Griffin, but she doesn’t need your help that much,” Octavia explains and you scuff your toe on the floor to try and distract them away from your silly excuses. “Oh, Clarke. Did you really think she was spending time with you alone because she wants to learn all about the body.”

Murphy laughs again but Bellamy cuts him down with a quick glare. He stays quiet for an entire second before he bursts. “She wants to know Clarke’s body,” and you’re not even remotely surprised when Raven gives him a high-five.

You blush at their words but it’s kind of nice to think that Lexa has been willing to seek you out just to spend some time with you. The lie you could do without, but the gesture is kind of sweet -- if you were living in a 1999 romcom.

“Do you like her?” Bellamy tries gently when they all settle down and you shy away from the room as they turn to look at you.

It isn’t something you’ve thought about. You like her company, yes, and she kind of makes you nervous but you don’t know if you _like_ her. She’s so far removed from the circle of people who would probably want you that the thought has never occurred to you. The fact you might stand a chance with someone like her just never crossed into your mind but now it’s there, it’s sort of exciting.

“I’d like to get to know her more,” you admit.

“Then you need to make the first move, stud,” Raven says, unconsciously emulating Lexa’s words to you and you try and not think of all the times Lexa has given you the opening to make a move but you’ve done nothing about it.

 _When you figure it out, let me know,_ echoes in your mind and you feel like such an idiot.

Maybe you aren’t as smart as you think you are.

* * *

You don’t text her.

Mostly because you can’t think of anything that isn’t a quote from a movie or painfully cringe-worthy when you say it out loud.

You _are_ going to do something though.

Probably.

* * *

Your heart is racing and your stomach hurts but she’s been so brave during your whole friendship. It’s only fair that you do something to show her you care too, right? Or that you’re not entirely against the idea of you liking her...Or her liking you.

If she does like you too, of course.

“Stop thinking,” Raven says and you hum to let her know you’ve kind of heard her. She growls in annoyance and grabs your hand, forcing you to look at her. “Hey. Stop.”

“What if she hates me because I never text her after she pretty much told me to?”

Raven eyes you for a long moment, her left eye twitching in a way that has you inching back slightly, and she sighs deeply. “Listen to me: She likes you. We’ve all witnessed the stupid looks she’s given you for the past _forever,_ and we’ve all had to watch her make up dumbass excuses to come and talk to you. Stop stressing out because, somehow, your stress is giving me hives.”

“Those are hickies.”

“Semantics,” Raven waves you off but it makes you smile. You gather strength from her and it’s stupid because it’s not like you’re going to kiss Lexa as soon as she walks in the door, you’re still figuring out if you like her as a friend or more, but you are nervous and you know it’s obvious. “Focus, Griff. Your lady love is here.”

At her words Lexa walks through the door, Anya at her elbow as she taps away at her phone, and both girls seem oblivious to your staring. Without a second thought they both make their way to your desk and you swell with pride that _this_ is where Lexa sits now. Next to _you._

“Hi,” you whisper as she takes a seat and she turns to you with a soft smile, the motion making Anya scoff in amusement.

“Hey,” Lexa returns just as quietly and you scratch at your neck nervously, an action she notices. Once more she’s the brave one and she lifts her own hand, taking yours away from where you think you might be carving your name into your own neck, and she brings it back down to the table slowly. “Good weekend?”

You nod shyly and you faintly hear Raven whisper a harsh  _‘Jesus’_ under her breath. Your friend nudges you out of the way a little and you’re sort of grateful when she steps in. “Hey Lexa, Finn is having a party on Saturday. Nothing big but he finally has his damn driving license so we’re celebrating. Wanna come?”

“Sure,” she shrugs and turns to Anya. “Wanna go?” Anya looks at Lexa and then back at her phone which you assume to mean yes because Lexa beams and turns back to the two of you. “We’ll be there.”

Raven nudges you and you jolt a little, your jump making Lexa look at you in concern. “Oh. I’ll be there too,” you say, a little too loudly, and you cringe when all three of the girls at the desk look at you with raised brows.

“Cool,” Lexa laughs and you’ve never been so happy to see your teacher walk into the room.

* * *

When you arrive at the party you know immediately that you don’t want to be there. The music is too loud and there’s already someone being sick next to some cars and it’s just a little too much. Murphy mutters something behind you as a group of people block you from entering but you remind yourself that you’re doing this to see Lexa, to show her that you’re brave too, and you politely squeeze your way through.

Raven is hovering near the drinks table and Finn is by her side, as always, but you can’t see Bellamy or Octavia and you bite at your lip. It’s not like you need them to be here but it makes you feel safer to know that they’re around. You tell yourself you don’t need them and you separate from Murphy to try and find Lexa.

The least you can do is say hello even if you can't do anything else tonight.

She’s in the kitchen with Costia and Anya and you stall for a second simply content with watching her as she laughs with her friends. She’s wearing shorts tonight and a vest that she’s tucked in; it serves to highlight her curves and the flat planes on her body and you like it. You know you didn’t really _try_ when you were getting ready but you also know you look nice and that gives you the confidence to approach three girls with perfect bone structure and legs that last for days.

“Lexa,” you breathe out with a smile and the girl stops her conversation with Costia entirely to give you her attention. Costia bristles slightly and out of the corner of your eye you see Anya shake her head. “You’re here.”

“I said I would be,” she returns and she must see how nervous you are standing in front of her and her friends so she steps forward, forcing you to only be able to see her. “I’m glad you’re here. Since you’ve never gotten around to using my number it’s always a guessing game whether you're going to turn up or not."

You flush a little at her calling you out and you look down at your shoes in an attempt to calm the heat in your cheeks. “I never know what to say to you,” you admit and it’s the closest you’ve come to admitting, to her, how nervous she makes you.

“You’re talking to me now,” Lexa says and you nod because she’s right. There’s a cocky smirk on her lips that you can’t look away from and she gives you a little shrug, her eyes bright. “See? Nothing to worry about. I’m not that bad.”

“No, you’re not,” you smile and then you do something that you weren’t expecting of even yourself. Your hands are shaking a little but she kind of makes it worth it even if you aren’t sure what you’re willing to call this just yet. “Can we go somewhere else? It’s a little loud.”

She grins at you and you feel important.

* * *

Lexa leads you into the back yard, well away from the party, and you try to pretend that you’re not as terrified as you actually are. She might be the coolest person you’ve ever met and you really don’t want to give her a reason to tell the school how awkward you are.

“You never really needed help with your biology work, did you?”

She laughs at that and the sound is just for you, you're sure it is. There’s just something different in the way that she laughs with Anya or Costia or Lincoln than the way she does when she’s with you and you wonder why it took you so long to notice. Or maybe you just didn't want to notice. But now it has your attention it's all you can think about.

“Who told you?”

You shrug, lips pressed together in a smile. “I figured it out.”

As she steps closer to you she hums, like she doesn’t quite believe you, but she folds her arms across her stomach anyway and gives you a fond look. It’s sweet the way she looks at you; it's different to how Bellamy or Raven look at you and you hold this moment because for once you’re being brave and it’s getting you somewhere. “It took you long enough,” she murmurs and there’s definitely a blush on her cheeks, she’s most certainly nervous. “Do you mind? That I didn’t need help I mean.”

“No,” you say, not entirely truthful but enough that you want her to know that you’re flattered by her attentions. “You could have just spoken to me.”

“No I couldn’t,” she shakes her head and you’d be more offended if she wasn’t smiling, or moving ever closer, or letting her eyes leave yours. “Everytime I tried to speak to you, you kind of made it clear when the end of the conversation came. You’re not an easy girl to get to know.”

You shrug, “I’m not an exciting girl to get to know.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” Lexa replies and it doesn’t feel as possessive as it probably sounds. “I think you’re fascinating.”

There’s nothing you can really say to that so you inhale deeply, your arms coming to cross your chest, and she stops advancing forward at your motions. You’re not sure what she’s read of your body language but she softens slightly, trying to gain traction again, and the idea that Lexa Woods is trying her hardest around you is kind of flattering.

“I’m not very good at this whole ‘first move’ thing,” you admit and you hate how your voice shakes a little, especially when her eyes go gentle at the sound. You don’t want her to think you’re something special if you’re not. “But I’d like to get to know you too.”

This time it’s Lexa who looks completely taken off guard and you hear a cute little gasp escape her. “You do?”

“If that’s okay?”

“Jesus, Clarke,” she exhales and just the sound of her breathily saying your name is enough to feel like you’ve been sucker-punched. In disbelief she takes a few more steps forward and puts her hand on your forearm, her fingers tracing against your skin softly. “You drive me crazy, do you know that?”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to say and she laughs quietly.

“Are you ever going to let me kiss you? Because you’re making it kind of difficult to stand here when you act like that,” Lexa whispers and you can feel your eyes widen, you know you must look terrified, and she immediately closes her eyes like she’s done something wrong. “Sorry. I'm sorry. It's just...You’re too much sometimes. I feel like I’ve been waiting to ask you that forever.”

You blink, suddenly aware of Lexa and her vulnerabilities. “You have?”

“God, do you really not see how special you are?” She asks. You feel her hand come up before you see it and your eyelashes flutter at the feeling of her fingertips on your skin. “I’ve waited this long, okay? I can wait longer. I’ll wait and you can still tell me that it’s not me you want and that will still be alright. No pressure, Clarke. I promise.”

You swallow at that because she’s giving you an out, she knows that you’re probably scared, she knows that you’re probably nervous, she knows this is the moment that she would usually kiss girls senseless but she’s backing off to give you a little space.

This is all too new for you but she thinks that’s okay and your entire body hums with relief.

“Can I hug you?”

Lexa murmurs something and when you look up at her she looks so young that you almost gasp. “You’re killing me,” she says but her smile is wide and her tone is sweet and, when she takes you into her arms, it feels like you’re coming alive.

* * *

You get to know her.

Lexa likes sports. She likes watching them, but not playing them, and she likes music. She enjoys going to little known bars to listen to unknown bands and she has a tattoo on her back that make you wince a little at the thought. She likes the idea of hiking but hates the idea of waking up before ten a.m on a weekend and that’s quite alright with you. Because, really, hiking just seems unnecessary if one party isn’t enjoying it. She likes signing off each of your texts with some sort of emoji, usually the smirk, and she likes that she’s influenced you to do the same.

Lexa hates the rain and...Well, she hates most weather that isn’t sunshine. She’s grumpy in the mornings but still wakes up obnoxiously early to spend way too much time on her hair and eyeliner. She hates when you take too long on your homework, she becomes like a child craving attention, and you know that she hates how long it takes for you to break for her even more.

You know a lot of things about Lexa; and you’re so very aware that the girl is so desperate to have you in her life that she’s willing to act like she doesn’t have feelings for you at all.

And sometimes that thought is too much.

* * *

“Kiss her,” Bellamy says during lunch and even Murphy pauses eating his noodles to nod at you. “You’re driving us all crazy.”

* * *

You text her to come outside after you've spent nearly an hour pacing the sidewalk outside of her house. There are two cars in the driveway so you know that she’s home but you still kind of worry her mom is going to come out and tell you to stop creepily staring up at her daughter's window.

It doesn’t take her very long to come outside and you can't help but note that her makeup looks freshly done, something which makes you laugh. She always goes that extra mile for you and you don’t know why it makes you feel so special, she’s beautiful without makeup, but you like that she’s just trying to impress you too.

“Are you okay?” is the first thing she asks and you nod quickly in attempt to soothe any worries that she might have. She tugs you to sit on the bench outside of her front door but you’re too nervous to sit next to her and she waits a second before standing up, clearly nervous and unsure how to act around you. “You sure?”

“I’m fine,” you say before you completely ruin her your own words by looking around anxiously. “You scare me.”

She narrows her eyes a little at that and you hope you haven’t hurt her feelings but she seems to steel herself and you watch as she nods a little, her thumb scratching at her index finger in a nervous twitch. “Why?”

“Because you’re so patient with me when you don’t have to be. I’ve done nothing for you in the entire time we’ve been friends and before that I barely even spoke to you but you’ve always been so nice to me,” you say quickly. You know you have to get this out because she looks so concerned, and so guilty at the same time, that you power through. “I know I don’t make it easy and sometimes I miss cues and simple things that I should pick up on but you’re still here. And I’m scared that you’re going to get tired of waiting for me to make my mind up.”

She shakes her head quickly, dismayed. “Clarke if I ever gave you impression that I’m waiting on you to make some kind of decision then I’m sorry. I  honestly didn’t mean that,” she rushes. “I made peace a long time ago that being your friend is wonderful enough.”

“But you do want more, don’t you?”

You can see the conflict in her eyes at your question. You know she wants to lie to you, to ease any stress you might have, but you know she hates the idea of being deceitful. She swallows much like she did the day you asked her to be friends and you know what it means now, you know she’s swallowing down what she really wants to say.

“You’re an amazing girl, Clarke. I’d be an idiot to not want more,” she says and you’re kind of surprised that she was as open as that. You know she sometimes protects you a little too much, you know she doesn’t always say what she means so that you can keep feeling safe, but there must be something in your eyes today that changes her mind. “But I’m not pushing for it if you’re not ready. I really am happy being your friend."

You inhale sharply because she’s always so willing to put your needs before her own and it makes you angry.

You try and different tactic. “Did you really go to all of those parties hoping I’d be there?”

She smiles at that but you see the frustration behind her eyes. “Yeah. I thought that you were dating Bellamy back then and I figured that if he was there then you would be too,” she says and then frowns. “I’ve only just now realized how creepy that actually sounds.”

“It’s a sweet kind of creepy,” you laugh and it sounds wet, like you want to cry, and you wish you knew how to word things properly like Lexa can. Like all of your friends can. “I’ve only ever had one girlfriend before. I don’t know how good I’d be for you.”

“You make me a better person by just being around me,” Lexa says and you kind of fall in love with the hope in her voice. You know you're giving her positive signals but she's still holding back because she's wants this to be at your pace and, really, she amazes you. “You’re the sort of girl who elevates everyone else just by smiling, you know? You make us follow you and you don’t even know you're doing it.”

At some point you find yourself moving forward and within seconds your fingers are laced with hers; her eyes are wide and hopeful and needy.

You’re not sure how you manage to do it--Lexa always brings out a side in you that you weren’t sure ever existed--but you lean in and you press your lips against hers before you can talk yourself out of it.

There’s a pause, for a split second, but then Lexa is making a soft noise and she takes a few steps forward to press her entire front against yours. Beneath both of your soft tops you can feel her curves against your own, you feel her fingers leave your hand so they can take purchase on your hips, and you feel her exhale shakily against your lips.

“You’re better than you think you are at making the first move,” she chuckles into your mouth seconds later and you’re still kind of terrified by this whole experience but you don’t want to waste anymore time talking. Your fingers tangle into the back of her hair and she lets out a noise that might be a moan if you let yourself believe it.

You only part when you hear a woman cough and, when you turn, you see Lexa’s mom looking at you in amusement. “I really hope you’re this Clarke Griffin I keep hearing about,” she says and you decide that you like her immediately. Lexa shrinks against you, her face against your shoulder, and you nod at her with a shy smile. “Considering what I just saw you doing to my daughter on our not-very-private porch you don’t need to play coy. I assume you’re staying for dinner?”

You blush so hard you worry you’ll never change color again.

* * *

“Did you finally kiss her?” Bellamy asks. You nod softly and he leaps up with a fist pump to the air. You put your face onto the desk in complete embarrassment as he cheers way too loudly for a library and you kind of wish you never met him.

When he says that he’s proud of you later, you change your mind.

* * *

Lexa waits for you outside of your shared biology room as you approach from your last class and when you reach her you put your hand around her neck to bring her in for a quick kiss that completely surprises you both.

You pretend you’re not panting with pure nerves when you smirk at her, “We have a lot of firsts to get through and I thought, since I’m now a master at making the first move, I’d give it a go. First kiss at school? Check.”

“Oh, you’re on,” she says and there’s a look in her eyes that sets fire to your heart and you sort of grow nervous about what she’s planning. But then she’s lacing your fingers together and walking into class to meet Anya and suddenly you don’t think you mind.

At least, you think as she starts a conversation with Anya and you find yourself unable to look away, you don’t have to pretend like you’re not watching her anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how American competitions work so just go with it, okay?
> 
> These follow up chapters are probably just going to be little snippets and chunks of their lives. It probably won't follow on from one another all the time in a correct sequence and it might switch POV, I don't know, I don't make promises. 
> 
> Hopefully you all like it. As always it's unedited and I wrote this all in one go so it hasn't been checked.
> 
> Thanks!

**WEDNESDAY**

You learn very quickly that Lexa is totally aware of who she is and who you are to her. She’s confident in her touches and directing smiles towards you and finding the time to sit next to you during lunch, even if you’re not confident enough yet to sit at _her_ table without prompting, and it’s everything like you wanted it to be and nothing like you thought.

She isn’t shy in expressing how she feels about you either; even if you’re both in front of other people that don’t know her, or who have no idea who you are or what you are to one another. She’s happy to hold your hand, fingers laced, and even happier to press soft kisses into the curve of your shoulder. It’s lovely and wonderful and it settles warm in your heart, even as you wait for the other shoe to drop, even as you try and ignore the roar inside that questions why _she_ would ever waste precious time on you. Lexa is her own person, she has her own mind, and you trust her to make her own choices regardless of your own crippling self-doubt. But, still, you can’t deny that the feeling is still there.

\---

“So I’ve been thinking,” she starts as you watch her apply her eyeliner. It’s kind of hypnotic the way that she brushes her wrist back and forth and you can’t help but stare at the dark spread for a long second before you realise her eyes have flicked to yours in the mirror. “Clarke.”

You can’t deny that you weren’t paying attention but you try anyway. “Lexa,” you smile, mostly because you like how her name sounds coming from your mouth but also because she’s already crinkling the corner of her eyes at you in amusement.

“I want to take you on a date. Like a real one,” Lexa finally says and it takes until she has completed the finishing touches to her makeup and has sprayed around herself to ‘set her face’--whatever that means--for you to start reacting. “I want to show you off to the world, Griffin. Even if the world is just our tiny town right now.”

You’re transported back weeks, months even, to when Lexa first said that to you. You remember how sincere she was beside her locker, how blinded you were to the fact that she could like you, and you can’t help the smile she evokes. She isn’t ashamed of you and realistically you know you’re not someone bad, you’re not _evil,_ and she shouldn’t be ashamed about being with you...but still. It’s hard not to hear what people whisper behind your back when they sound like bullets to you.

But once upon a time you promised to be brave and you’re going to be bullet-proof too. For her. “Well where do you want to take me?” If you were a different person you’re sure that could have sounded flirtatious but you’re Clarke and mostly you just mumble it while simultaneously avoiding her eyes that are so desperately searching for yours.

You can’t look at her yet though.

It’s too early in the day to lose all of your words to her.

“Now, see, I want it to be a surprise but I know what you’re like. If I just turn up at your house one evening, ready to take you out, you’ll be four hours deep into some nature documentary and as hot as I am I’m not sure I’d be able to pull you away from it,” she says and her tone is so fond, so soft, that you barely notice when she swings her leg across your own to straddle your lap where you’ve been sitting patiently on her bed. Really you should have set off to school ten minutes ago but when you arrived to pick her up she was barely awake and refusing to leave without first putting on her makeup. You can’t complain at getting to spend a little longer with her though, just the two of you, and even though you told her she was beautiful without makeup you’re pretty sure you’re going to be late. “So this is your official notice. I’m taking you out on Friday night so no documentaries, no homework and definitely no extra reading that your big brain doesn’t need.”

Your hands tremble as you move to put them on her hips but you relax by inches when she smiles happily at the action and rolls her hips towards the touch. “Okay. What should I wear?”

“Nothing,” she says and you blush so hard you feel dizzy almost immediately. She laughs kindly and doesn’t try to hide it which only makes you huff out a breath, unable to say even the most simple of words in reply to her teasing. As always she takes pity on you and presses a soft hand to your jawline, guiding your lips to hers, and when she kisses you you’re sure it’s the heat of your blush that has warmed her face to such a pretty pink colour. “Wear anything, babe. Literally anything.”

“Lexa,” you whine but her mouth is _so close_ and you’re not really mad. “I want to look nice for you. For our date.”

“You could literally wear that awful green shirt that you’ve had for, like, years and I’d still be insanely attracted to you,” Lexa grumps and you kind of want to be offended but you’re not sure which shirt she means, which means _she_ pays way more attention to you than you ever thought possible. “Clarke, I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time. I’m not going to get held up on the details when I can just take you out instead.”

Still you gnaw at your lip and it takes a few well placed kisses along your jaw and your cheek to calm down. You only really begin to relax when she kisses you again. It’s not exactly difficult to get lost in it and you have a handful of Lexa’s t-shirt between your fingers--(if you can call the tight fabric a shirt)--when there’s a loud bang on the door that ceases all movement from Lexa’s hips.

“Shit,” your girl murmurs. You’re still kind of stunned at how good she tastes so early in the morning that when her mom's’ voice echoes through to the both of you, you’re pretty confused about everything that isn’t her lips.

“You girls are going to be late if you don’t move out of that room right this second. Your hormones might not care about your education, Lexa, but I do. Get to school.”

Lexa huffs and grumbles and is about thirty seconds away from throwing a full blown tantrum but you manage to wrangle her, and her school stuff, together before her mom has a complete meltdown on the other side of the door.

You’re definitely late for your first class and your lips are still swollen even as you apologise to your teacher.

You don’t care.

\---

“Nerd,” Bellamy greets as he drops next to you and you smile at him, already elated from your morning with Lexa and the extra marks on your history paper you’d handed in last week. You’re maintaining good friendships and an awesome GPA and now you have Lexa; it’s almost too much and you know that it would be too much if it didn’t feel so nice. “Where’s Lexa?”

“Anya and her had to stay behind because Professor Pike caught them taking selfies in class,” you giggle and you remember how affronted your girl had looked when your teacher had held his hand out for them to give up their cell-phones. It had taken a full fifteen minutes for the offended look to even leave her face and you had spent the class quietly laughing to yourself at her silent outrage of being phoneless. “She’ll be here soon.”

Bellamy hums at you and leans back in his chair, clearly ready to wait with you until you have some more company, and shakes his head when you offer him a grape. “Are you two coming to my place on Friday? Nothing huge or anything since Octavia isn’t going to be there with her cheerleading crew. There’s just a few of us getting together.”

“I can’t,” you reply apologetically and it’s kind of hard to ignore the little rumble of disappointment in your stomach that he forgot about your own interests. “Monty and I are going to our mathlete competition in Dante. We’re staying overnight, remember?”

“Oh,” he looks bored for a second and then it seems to hit him about what you’ve said and he turns apologetic eyes to you. “Shit, Griff. I’m sorry. I completely forgot. Do you want me to come and support you? Fuck the team, y’know? I can have a party another night.”

You smile at that and shake your head because he looks so genuine that you find it hard to really stay too mad at him. Besides, you know Math is boring. You’re pretty sure out of the group who go, only three of you are genuinely interested in being there.. “No. I know Octavia has a cheerleading thing that weekend too. If you should cancel and go and watch someone do something interested, it should be her.”

“For real, I am sorry,” he continues and you know he’s being truthful so you give him a little shrug. You can’t imagine Bellamy and Octavia and...the rest of those people sitting in a room waiting to hear if you’re any good at solviing math questions. “I feel like such an ass. You remembered O’s comp. We should have remembered your thing.”

“I didn’t say anything,” you return and he narrows his eyes a little at you. “It’s okay. Monty said there’s a really good ice-cream place there so we were just going to go there and then go back to the hotel to watch movies.”

He still doesn’t look convinced and sighs a little. “Still, you should have some support. Or someone to witness that brain in action. Is Murphy going?”

“No,” you say gently and smile a little. He’d declined coming with some mean comment but you knew it was because he had a date with Emori...

Oh.

Wait.

Shit.

Bellamy seems to notice something shift within you and he watches as your eyes shine with something more than happiness. He reaches out, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist and you turn to him when he tugs softly to gain your attention. “Griff?”

“I…” You have a date with Lexa. On Friday. The same night you’re out of town. “I…”

“Hey, come here,” he murmurs quietly and you grab your stuff as he urges you up, clearly sensing that you’re not okay, and you walk with him in silence to a quiet hallway. The loud noises of the cafeteria fade and Bellamy waits patiently as you get your thoughts together.

How are you going to tell her? She was so excited.

“I don’t...Bellamy,” you whine softly and he leans against the wall, aware you need time to get your thoughts together. “Lexa is going to be so disappointed.”

“Why?”

“She wants to take me on a date,” you say, not quite meeting his eyes, and you know he’s smirking at you in that special way he does. “On Friday.”

“Okay,” he trails off and he doesn’t react even as you snap your eyes to him. “Just tell her about your meet. She won’t mind, Clarke.”

“But she was so excited. I don’t want to let her down,” because she was trying to hard, and she was so patient, and you already feel bad just imagining the look on her pretty face. “I can’t believe the first date we’re going on and I’m going to cancel on her. She’ll probably think it’s because I don’t want to go.”

Bellamy scoffs and shakes his head at you. “She’ll understand,” he shrugs and you’re not convinced so he reaches out for you. “Clarke. It’s _Lexa._ That girl would do anything for you and even I can see that. Just tell her, alright? She won’t mind.”

“But she has a plan.”

“Dude,” he smiles but now it’s kind and you feel comfortable enough to step closer to him, the weight of his hand on your arm comforting. “She’ll always have some kind of plan for you. She’s completely obsessed with you. Don’t worry so much, alright? Just explain you were too focused on kissing her that your brain stopped working and you completely double-booked. She’s Lexa, you’ll be okay.”

You want to be mad at him but that’s exactly what happened.

Instead you hug him.

But, still. He didn’t need to call you out like that.

\---

“Do you like Mexican?”

Lexa drops next to you on the playing field and you look at her in confusion. You have a free period and the sun is shining so you took your books outside, the sound of the gym class keeping you from getting _too_ lost in your book and missing the bell, and you were planning on being alone. “Aren’t you supposed to be over there?”

She looks over to where you’re pointing at where her gym class is in various stages of warming up and then back at you with a shrug. “Why would I be over there when you’re over here?”

“You’re going to get into trouble,” you point out needlessly but you don’t push it any further. Lexa is sitting next to you in her tiny gym shorts and her black and green ‘Go Grounders!’ shirt that you’re all made to wear in class and, honestly, you’re not completely mad about it. She’s smirking at you in that way that makes you feel giggly and flirty and you roll your eyes a little before leaning in to kiss her quickly. “Hi there.”

“Mm, hi beautiful,” she hums softly. You’re both quiet for a few seconds, basking in the sunshine and each other, before she breaks the silence by nudging you a little with her bare leg. “So -- Do you like Mexican food?”

You nod, confused. “Real Mexican or, like, Taco Bell?”

“Taco Bell _is_ real,” she sasses right back, a grin breaking up her words slightly, and she picks at the blades of glass below you. There’s the cutest little frown between her brows that you want to brush away but she’s being sweet right now, almost shy and childlike, and you don’t want her to stop.“But I’m talking the real deal. Or, well, as real as a small town in the middle of nowhere can be.”

“Why?”

Lexa leans her cheek on her knee as she looks at you, eyes softer than you’ve seen them. “Turns out that even though our town is the smallest town in the world,” it’s not, you want to reply, because _Buford, Wyoming_ holds that title (if you’re not including square footage) and you’re nowhere near there. You force yourself to focus in again because you just managed to annoy yourself with your inner nerd and, _really Clarke_? “--I gotta book a table since it’s a Friday night. And like I said this morning, I know you’re not huge on surprises so I figured I’d just ask. Save me looking like an ass and booking somewhere dumb like Sushi only to find out you’re allergic to, like, shellfish or something.”

“Oh, no, I’m not allergic to anything,” you say quietly and Lexa’s eyes narrow immediately. You’re kind of glad you don’t have dreams of being an actress because, judging from today, you kind of suck at it. “What?”

“Nothing,” but she reaches across for your hand and you know you’ve done something that’s captured her attention and you’re pretty sure she knows you have to say something. “We’re still okay for Friday, right?”

“Um,” you stutter and she frowns, kind of sadly, and it clenches something in you. But you’re brave now, you tell yourself, you’re brave and she likes you. Bellamy said she’d understand. “I kind of fucked up.”

Her eyes widen a little and you want to rush to fix it but she holds her hand up. “Wait a minute,” she whispers, closing her eyes, and you look at her like she’s losing her mind. Or maybe she’s picturing all the different ways to tell you she doesn’t want to waste time on someone who cancels dates for Math. “I need to savor the epic _hotness_ of you actually swearing.”

“Lexa,” you scold because a) that was the most teenage thing she’s ever said and b) _hotness,_ really? “Listen, I really want to go out with you on Friday…”

She doesn’t look mad when you pause, just patient, and she’s still kind of giggling at you swearing because apparently you’re dating a child. “But?”

“I double-booked with Monty.”

“You’re going on a date with Monty?”

You laugh at that because she sounds so cute and confused. “No, we have a uh…” That’s when you cut yourself off because you’re already pushing your luck by having the most popular girl in school, the most perfect girl, willing to kiss you and you really don’t want to prove to her how much of a loser you really are. Even if you’re kind of proud of your team for getting as far as you have. “A thing.”

“A thing.”

“Just a thing, yeah.” She taps your knee once and you sigh, tilting your head to the side in exasperation, but she keeps looking at you until you continue. How Bellamy and her manage to do this to you, patiently break down your walls, you don’t know but it’s very annoying when you’re trying to look cool and mysterious. “A school thing.”

“God this is harder than getting you to admit you liked me too,” she teases and you pretend to be shocked, even though she’s definitely right, and there must be something about the moment that makes her happy because she kisses you again. You can taste the minty gum she had earlier, mixed with some fizzy soda you know you don’t like, and it’s enough to lull you into a comfortable state. “What thing, hot stuff?”

“It’s for Mathletes,” you admit with a blush and she nods at you once. “We’re through to the last round but it’s a few towns over in Dante. We’re going to stay the night there, since it’ll be easier because it starts early on Saturday, and I completely forgot. Which is sort of your fault because you were wearing that t-shirt this morning that you might as well have painted on and you were kissing me and...I’m sorry, Lexa.”

She shrugs easily. “It’s cool. Do you want me to drive you and your friend to your thing?”

“What?”

“To your competition? Figure you’ll wanna cram before, right? So I’ll drive you both, you can kick ass, and I’ll make a little banner to cheer you on,” she smiles and you look at her like she’s grown another head, like she’s absolutely talking another language, and she scratches at your chin. “It’s what, like a two hour drive or something to Dante? We can go when school ends.”

“You’re not coming.”

And _okay,_ you could have said that a whole lot nicer judging by the way Lexa’s eyes cloud with hurt and you barely stop yourself from saying anything worse. She _can’t_ come. She can’t see you in that environment. Lexa has seen something in you that you’re not sure exists and you really don’t want her to sit at the schools most unattended event.

“Uh, why? We can go on Friday, have a date night in a hotel room, and then you do your thing the next day with me as your badass cheerleader,” her voice has gone quiet and you fiddle with the grass near your Converse so that you don’t open your stupid mouth again. “What, do you not want me there or something?”

Your lack of response seems to be answer enough for her because she sits back a little, your name falling from her lips in a hurt kind of tone, and you’re only stopped from making it worse when Lexa’s gym teacher walks over. “Miss. Woods, can you tell me why you’re sat over here instead of joining in with the class?”

“Uh,” she’s still looking at you but you’re looking away and the whole thing is kind of awkward. “I don’t remember.”

“Up, now,” she says and Lexa stands. You don’t have to look at her to know that she’s trying to get your attention but you’re pretty sure that was an asshole move and you’re not exactly experienced at this stuff. You don’t know what to do to fix it. “This’ll hurt your participation grade for…”

Lexa and her teacher trail off but you don’t look up, not even when the bell rings for the next class.

 _Such_ a loser.

\---

You’re grabbing your things out of your locker when you remember that Lexa is your ride home and you freeze, unsure if she’ll even want you in the car, when a body appears beside you and her familiar scent surrounds you. She hasn’t spoken to you since gym class but you haven’t had any classes together either so you can’t be too concerned, although your phone has stayed silent in your bag which made your stomach tremble a little.

“Am I taking you straight home or are we allowed to hang out together?”

You think you sort of deserve that and when you turn to look at her she’s leaning against the lockers, back in the clothes she picked out that morning, and she has a look of nonchalance on her face. You see through it though; her eyes look sad, her lips downturned, and you feel bad that you put that look there because she’s so good to you.

“I want to spend time with you,” you reassure her as you hold your books to your chest tighter. People are leaving to go home and you don’t like when the hallways get crowded, a fact that Lexa seems to know instinctively and she rolls her eyes a little at you as she leads you out of the doors to where there’s more room **.**

“You sure you want to spend time with me?” She’s rubbing the back of her neck and you know her well enough now to recognize it as a little thing of hers that she does when she’s holding stress in her body, stress you built. “Because it kind of doesn’t feel that way. Did I, like, do something wrong? Because this morning my tongue was definitely in your mouth and now I’m kind of confused.”

You really, really, really want to take her hand but you’re so bad at this and she’s so effortlessly perfect. In your head you know putting her on this pedestal isn’t healthy but sometimes it’s hard to remove yourself from what you’ve always known; Lexa is popular and loved and destined to be amazing. You’re Clarke. You’re Bellamy’s friend, that girl in art class who always makes the teacher swoon. It’s kind of hard to _not_ compare.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just,” you trail off as the doors burst open again and she softens when you flinch a little. Instead of waiting for the crowd to disperse she leads you to her car, parked in the expensive spot you know she threw a tantrum for, and you get in silently.

Out of the corner of your eyes you can see Anya and Costia walking to a silver sports car a little further down and you wonder if Lexa wants to go and speak to them. Her attention seems to be on you though but you’re not ignorant to the way Costia looks over at your car and suddenly bursts into a rant that startles the usually stoic Anya.

“Should I not want to come to your events, Clarke?” Her voice is small, unsure, and you shake your head vehemently because she did everything right. It’s you. “Then can you tell me what I did please? Because when I went to go back to gym you looked like you’d rather be anywhere else in the world but speaking to me.”

Your head snaps up at that and you’re immediately defensive, even if she’s right. “That’s not what --”

“C’mon, you weren’t even looking at me.”

“I was embarrassed.”

“Why?”

You scoff at that and throw yourself back against the leather seat in a huff. “Look at you, Lexa,” you gesture towards her. She’s all tight clothing and aviator sunglasses and a messy bun that would look appaling on anyone else. “And look at me. Why would you want to spend a Friday night in a crappy hotel room, studying Math with a group of nerds, when you could be at any party in the world with anyone you want. Nobody _wants_ to go to a Mathlete meet, trust me.”

“I do,” she shrugs but she looks heartbroken so you look away because _ouch._ “If you’re there and it’s important to you, Clarke, then I’m there.”

“It’s lame.”

She laughs a little at that and you feel her fingers pulling on your chin, directing her gaze to you. “I figured we were past this whole thing when you kissed me for the first time,” she murmurs, kissing you so quickly that you’re unsure if it even happened. “Fuck what anyone in that building says, okay? Fuck what they think. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you throw a football in the entire time I’ve known you, and believe me I’ve been kind of stuck on you for a long time so I’ve been looking, but it doesn’t matter.”

“Stalker,” you laugh and her thumb runs over your smile gently.

“You don’t follow the crowd but you kill them in other ways, Clarke. Not sure if you’ve noticed but you continuously manage to bring me to my knees so stop thinking I’m something amazing and you’re not because I swear, that’s not the case. You think I don’t wonder what the hell you’re doing with me? You’re talented and smart and you have people eating from the palm of your hand,” she smirks, reminding you of her tiny moment of jealousy, and you look away shyly. “Baby, I spent my last thirty dollars on make-up and a pretzel that I was going to give to you but ate in the car before I managed to arrive at yours. That doesn’t mean you like me any less, right?”

You know what she’s trying to do and it’s sort of working, but you want to see her smile. “I don’t know. Now I know that you ate a pretzel without sharing with me…”

“Shut up,” she laughs against your lips, kissing you. “If you really don’t want me there then I won’t come, okay? But I want to spend time with you and you need to start believing it. I want to support you at these things. You’re my girlfriend, Clarke. It’s kind of my job to be your biggest fan.”

You nod before wrapping your arms around her tightly.

And she calls _you_ the smart one.

**THURSDAY.**

“No,” is all you get as you hover at the lunch table and you don’t know what to do. Bellamy is away with the football team and Raven and Murphy are working on a project together and you have no idea where Monty and Jasper are either. You don’t mind sitting alone but you know Lexa will just huff if she sees you by yourself, she really doesn’t understand when you tell her it doesn’t feel that bad, but she seems to be missing too and you were sort of hoping to just sit at her table unnoticed until she arrived.

Costia, however, seems determined to not have that be a thing.

“Um, I’m just waiting for Lexa,” you hope you sound strong. (You know you don’t and by the mean, somehow practiced, smirk on Costia’s face she can sense you’re scared too..) “Do you know where she is?”

The girl looks at you and sighs like you have just thrown the world's most pointless riddle at her to solve. Costia seems to you to always be a mix of ‘far too good to surround herself with these people’ and ‘just fucking annoyed’ all at the same time. There’s always a look of disdain on her features and it curls her lips; usually, since you’ve started dating Lexa anyway, the focus of her derision is you and you shift in your sneakers as she pins you with it. There were rumors, before you even knew Lexa, about her and Costia but you don’t like thinking about it so you’ve never asked. With the way the girl is glaring at you though, like she’s literally envisioning throwing you out of the window, you think there might be more truth to them than has ever been let on.

“I wouldn’t know. She hasn’t messaged me in weeks,” she tells you pointedly, echoing how long you and Lexa have been official and you wince a little. If you weren’t so sure that Costia would jump at the chance to sleep with your girlfriend, you’d feel guilty for snatching her friend away. “You can leave now.”

You stutter a little, your feet sliding to spin away, when suddenly there’s a hand on your arm. “Sit,” is commanded into your ear and you do as the voice says, mostly out of fear. When you turn to your left Anya is sitting next to you, acting like she didn’t just manhandle you into a chair, and you swallow quickly. “Lexa’s coming. She told me to make sure you didn’t run off to the art room to eat you lunch alone or something weird.”

“Oh,” you say with a smile because Lexa is coming and Costia looks pissed and Anya doesn’t care about anything, even how low down the social ladder you are when Bellamy and everyone else aren’t around. “Thanks.”

Anya looks annoyed that you’re interrupting her scrolling of Instagram and doesn’t reply for a minute. You think the conversation is over but then she makes a noise like she wants attention. When you look at her she’s turned her phone to you, your own Instagram profile on the screen. “That you?”

“I...Yes,” you reply and she nods, adding you quickly and it’s so rapid that you’re not sure if you’re supposed to even say anything to her because she’s already looking back at her phone and not speaking. You’re not really sure what just happened but you think that maybe, just maybe, Lexa’s friends might like you.

“Whatever, I’m not sitting with her,” Costia finally announces and you correct yourself. Some of Lexa’s friends like you, Lincoln definitely, and maybe Anya.

You glow a little at the thought.

\---

You’re wriggling in excitement for the rest of the day and Lexa laughs when you get into her car. “Which essay did you pass with full marks this time?”

“History,” you tell her, because you actually kicked your own ass with how good that essay was, but then the knowledge resurfaces about Anya being nice to you and you kiss her cheek happily. “I think Anya is my friend.”

Lexa smirks at that and pulls the car visor down to check her lipgloss. She always does it, and you always mess it up, but you like the routine of it. It feels domestic. “Don’t get carried away. I’m still figuring out if she’s my friend or not,” she smiles but it’s kind so you don’t think too much about it. You both know Anya would lay her life down for Lexa; even if the two only seem to speak in sarcastic banter and long silent looks. Instead you take your phone out and open up Instagram, instantly going to show her your newest addition to followers.

“See? Friends.”

“Did you follow her back?”

You check but nod with a confused pout, “I mean, yeah. It’s the polite thing to do.”

Lexa giggles, actually giggles, and leans closer to you. She smells like her expensive perfume and the candies you thought you’d managed to hide from her in your bag. You’re pretty sure you saw her rooting through it earlier in your shared class and it only reminds you again of how close you’re getting, how intimate. “She hit a milestone,” Lexa explains but soothes it with a kiss to your temple. “But she definitely doesn’t hate you. You’ve gone from ‘that girl’ to having an actual name if that helps.”

“What do you mean a _milestone_?” You’re kind of afraid to ask but Lexa shakes her head in amusement before starting the car, pulling her seatbelt around her.

She gestures for you to do the same and when you do she reaches across and unlocks your phone. You’re not sure when she figured out your code but you know hers and it’s all so...lovely. And warm. And God, is this what people in books try to describe? Because they got it so, so, so wrong. It feels better than any word in the English language could ever explain. “She’s Instagram famous or whatever. Or on her way to being. I don’t know the rules of it all that well, I just know she’s definitely got more followers than all of us put together,” Lexa shrugs, and your eyes bug out a little at the ‘ **69.5k** followers’ on the screen. “Her dad says she has to stay in school, obviously, but she has so many offers of sponsors like...All of the time. She’s set once we’re out of here. And, I mean, have you seen her? She’s going to be modelling shit all over the world while we’re cramming at college.”

“How did I not know this?”

Lexa holds your hand but her laugh lets you know she thinks this whole thing is adorable. “Because you have no idea what goes on outside of your little nerd bubble,” she smiles at you. “Don’t worry. I don’t care either.”

You’re still a little in shock and then you pout. “She _used_ me to get more followers.”

“Oh, baby,” Lexa chuckles, bringing your knuckles to her lips. “Of course she did. But, hey, look on the bright side. _She_ followed _you,_ she only follows like a hundred people. So, y’know, you can always have that.”

The pout doesn’t leave your lips. “She only followed me because you're her best friend, didn’t she?”

“No. She followed because you’re super active on social media,” Lexa deadpans and you sigh, but you’re smiling now because Lexa is teasing you and it’s natural and you don’t care what she says -- her friends totally like you.

It’s perfect.

\---

“Did you really stop speaking to Costia when we started dating?”

If Lexa is shocked at your question, she doesn’t show it. Her pen moves steadily over her homework and she hums her assent, barely even looking up to acknowledge you and it sort of makes you smile at how casual she is about it. Even if you’re not a jealous kind of person...It kind of feels nice too. Not that you’ll admit it. Because that would make you jealous -- and you’re not. “I didn’t have a reason to speak to her anymore.”

“Oh,” you gasp, kind of surprised by her candor. “That’s...Okay.”

When your girlfriend looks up at you she’s chewing her lip, like she’s unsure she should have said that, and you’re always taken aback by this side of Lexa. Usually she’s the confident one but, and it’s only sometimes, she’ll turn shy and awkward and it makes you blush a little at how adorable she is. “She isn’t an ex.”

“Yeah I uh,” you shake your head and move a piece of hair out of your face. She’s looking at you like she might have done something wrong and it suddenly strikes you that maybe you’re not alone in feeling like you don’t always know what to do in a relationship. Maybe this is a two-way street. “I didn’t need to know that.”

“Sorry,” she murmurs and you’re quick to take her hand in reassurance.

“Don’t be. I like it when you’re honest,” you tell her and she nods gratefully. “I just don’t like thinking about you touching her. Or her touching you.”

Lexa smirks and just like that the girl you know, the one you fell for, is back. “Jealous?”

You don’t even attempt to lie. “A little,” you say and Lexa softens, but only slightly. The arrogance and swagger is still there. “She’s had you in ways I probably don’t even know exist.”

“You have me in ways that matter,” she fires back, her fingers tangling with yours and you nod because you believe her when she says you’re different, that your relationship is different, because you feel it too. “We have time for the rest of it.”

She’s always so gentle and patient with you and you’re not sure what you’ve done in a past life to deserve her but you’re not going to question it. When you mentioned, off hand one evening, that you’ve never really had sex she didn’t laugh or flinch or act like an asshole. She smiled, kissed you softly. She told you it didn’t matter. Reminded you that she waited a hell of a long time for you to notice her, that waiting a little longer wasn’t a big deal.

“How long were you two, you know, _together_?”

You don’t know why you ask, and she’s looking like she doesn’t know why you asked either, but Lexa is always honest with you and there is something inside of you that wants to know. You need to know what Costia was giving her before you came along and, somehow, distracted her. “I mean, we’ve been sleeping together on and off since sophomore year. I did the dumb thing and wanted more but Costia -- she’s a dreamer, I guess. She always wants something else. So we never made it official.”

“Would you have done if she said yes though?”

Lexa studies you for a few seconds like she’s trying to work out where you’re going with this but, honestly, you don’t know either. Sometimes thoughts get stuck in your head and you can’t think until they’re free. “Maybe,” she finally shrugs and it doesn’t really hurt so much as feel uncomfortable. The thought of Lexa and Costia dating wouldn’t have even pinged on your radar this time last year, but now it’s an image you wish you hadn’t asked for. “But you were sort of always there, Clarke. I’ve liked other others; Costia, Octavia, but you’d walk into class and I’d be yours all over again. It was weird.”

“Octavia?”

“For, like, a month or something. Shut up,” she giggles and you do because _everyone_ has had a crush on one of the Blake’s at one moment or another in their lives. Crushing on them seems to be inevitable. “Did you miss the part where I was romantic and said it’s always been you? Because I thought that was pretty good.”

You stand up and move around the kitchen counter where you’ve been working and try to ignore the shudder down your spine as Lexa opens her legs for you to step between. It’s mostly innocent and the image shouldn’t have set off so many heat signals in your body but you’re different around her, she’s different, and it feels amazing. “You know I don’t like lame lines,” you tell her, your arms scooping around her neck and her hands land on your waist where she pulls you closer. She’s pressing completely against you and you wonder, for a moment, how you ever thought anything felt good before. “So there’s nothing there, is there? With you and Costia?”

She actually snorts at that. “If you’re not completely clued into how obsessed I am with you by now, Clarke, I really must be a bad girlfriend.”

“You’re not,” you kiss her pouty lips because you can and she slips her hands under your shirt to splay across the bare skin of your hips. “You’re amazing.”

She kisses you harder than she’s kissed you before and God, there really aren’t enough words in the world to describe Lexa Woods to your heart.

**FRIDAY**

You, Monty, Nathan and Maya are allowed to study during your last two periods to cram for the Mathlete meet you have the next day, which is fine if it didn’t mean you were missing biology with your girlfriend. Instead you’re forced to watch Monty try and flirt with Maya while Nathan pretends he isn’t glaring at the poor girl.

The whole thing is dumb and you cannot wait to be in Lexa’s car instead.

“Is it true Woods is coming with us?” Nathan finally asks and you look up at him, rolling your eyes a little at the boyish smile on his face, and you nod at him. Even after the awkward encounter she still wants to be there for you and it’s kind of a rush to think that someone, besides your teacher, is going to be watching you from the audience. “I thought we were all going in Monty’s car?”

You give him a look that tells him to shut up. “You can all do that but given the choice I’d honestly rather ride with Lexa and her running commentary of the school gossip for two hours than Romeo and Juliet over there.”

“Nice,” Miller notes with a nod and you both turn back to your work quietly, trying to ignore Monty and Maya’s whisperings, when Nathan tries to get your attention again. “Can I ride with you and Lexa?”

“No,” you say because you really want to be a nice person but there is no way, absolutely no way, you’re giving up time with Lexa just so Miller doesn’t have to watch his crush flirt terribly with a girl.

\---

“Who are you?” Lexa asks as you walk up to the car with Miller, her face contorts with confusion even as she drinks from her Starbucks cup, and you refrain from asking where she even got that from. Part of you wants to tell her to stop skipping class but then she gestures to your own iced coffee in the front cup holder and suddenly you’re not as mad. “Who is he?”

You put your things into the back of the car, just an overnight bag, and try not to squeal as you see Lexa’s packed one too. She’s honestly serious about spending time with you and even now, weeks later, it’s still hard to comprehend. “This is Nathan,” you tell her, leaning up to kiss her quickly in thanks for the coffee, and the smile she gives you makes it worth the trouble you’re probably going to get into for bringing a stranger along for your car ride. “He’s on my team.”

“We have French together,” he supplies helpfully and Lexa, even behind her sunglasses, looks at him blankly. She’s not usually bitchy or mean but you know she’s not the most welcoming to new people; especially, it seems, to attractive guys who walk towards her car laughing with her girlfriend.“We’ve had it since Freshman year together. I sit near the front.” She still looks completely confused and sips at her drink again. “Nevermind. Thanks for the ride anyway, Clarke said I could come with you two.”

“I didn’t get you a drink,” she says and it makes you smile because even though she’s tried to sound like an asshole about it, you know she’s genuinely sorry that she didn’t if it means making a bad impression on your friends. “But whatever, it’s fine.”

When you get into the car and wait for Miller to put his things in the trunk, you feel her move her hand to your thigh and you chuckle a little as you reach down and lace your fingers together. “He’s gay,” you tell her easily and it’s hard to not burst into absolute laughter at the relief on her face.

“I know,” she replies with a scoff but she definitely didn’t because you’re pretty sure she was being genuine when she looked confused about sharing an actual class with him. She changes though with the knowledge of him not being remotely interested in you and you smile around your green straw as she picks up a conversation with Nathan about French Class as soon as he gets into the car again, her demeanour far more relaxed than it had been before.

\---

When you get to hotel in Dante you feel a little bit of pressure but Lexa eases it as she takes your hand into hers and you walk into the hotel lobby together. You know your team is good, you really are all as smart as the school teases you to be, but it feels different this time because you want to prove it to Lexa too.

Your teacher is already there when you all walk in and while you notice the surprised look on her face when she sees Lexa but she doesn’t say anything about you holding hands as you all approach. “Miss Woods,” she says and Lexa looks up from where she’s been trying to get your feet to walk in a mirror image. “I’m very sorry but we only have two rooms booked for the competitors. Without your parents permission --”

“Mom already booked me a room ahead,” she shrugs because, technically, it’s the weekend and to Lexa that means school rules don’t apply anymore.

Your teacher gives Lexa a look that you know most of her teachers give her on a daily basis but she ignores it, swinging your hands between you with a smile that has her tongue poking between her teeth. She once said that when you did that when you smiled it drove her crazy, and you can kind of see why now. “Okay. I hope you understand the rules I have about room sharing, Miss Woods. The team are here for a competition so I want you all to be in your own separate rooms by a reasonable hour.”

“Lexa,” you murmur as the offended look crosses your girlfriend's face again and it’s hard to not laugh at how cute she looks. “That’s fine. Can we go to our rooms now though? I really need to change out of these clothes.”

Your teacher nods and you take the key that she gives you for the room you’re going to be sharing with Maya. Lexa tugs you quickly and she turns to your teacher, a cheeky look in her eyes. “No shenanigans, I swear, but you heard the girl. She needs to get out of her clothes.”

You don’t know what’s funnier; Lexa saying _shenanigans_ or the shout your teacher lets out when Lexa breaks into a sprint with you up the stairs.

\---

“What’s five plus five?”

“Ten.”

“You’re doing amazing, baby,” Lexa encourages and you laugh loudly at her enthusiasm, even as she presses a kiss against your collarbone in reward for your correct answer. You’ve tried explaining to her that those types of questions definitely won’t be asked during your competition, and it’s a lot more than just that, but she was insistent that she was going to help you and you’re really helpless in saying no to her. “So smart.”

Your head presses back into the pillows as you giggle at her and she sits up on your hips, straddling you with her perfect body, and you let your hands fall to her thighs. She lets her weight settle there and reaches behind her to pull her hair down from the bun she put it in earlier and you’re hypnotised by the way it falls around her face. “You’re so beautiful,” you whisper and she blushes, her eyes darting away from you shyly. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“I do,” she whispers, her own hands coming to rest on your stomach and you’re not ignorant to the way they move up towards your chest before dropping back towards your ribs again. “It’s just crazy hearing you say it after waiting for so long to get you to notice me.”

That strikes something in you and you trace your hands up to her hips, playing with the thin belt around her jeans, and you watch your own fingers move for a few seconds as you both breathe in the silence. “How long?”

“Clarke,” she groans, dropping her head back and you jerk a little at that particular image. “C’mon. It’s mortifying enough knowing that you had literally no idea who I was when I was completely crushing on you. Don’t make me relive it.”

You tug her belt and it only serves to make her hips grind hard into yours. “How long?”

“I noticed you in Freshman year,” she tells you what you already know but you’re kind of enjoying the powerplay, even if she is the one on top of your hips, and you raise your eyebrow at her. “I wanted you at the end of sophomore year. You wouldn’t get out of my head. I can’t believe you’re making me say this.”

“You’re doing amazing, baby,” you mock her gently from earlier but it’s hard to not notice how her eyes darken a little under the praise and you cock your head a little at that. Using her weight against her you drag her down against your hips again and drink in the stifled gasps she emits, her hands clenching at your shirt. “Why now?”

She leans down a little after your question, taking you off guard at her proximity, but there’s something in her eyes that tells you you’re still holding all the cards. Even if you have literally zero ideas what to do with them. “I thought Bellamy wanted you. I thought you were together,” she admits and you knew that but it makes you smile anyway. “I wanted you. I had to try.”

“I’m glad you did,” is the last thing you whisper before you lose yourself into her mouth. She kisses you desperately, pawing at your body, and you really don’t want to be a tease (because you’re still not too sure where this is going) but you moan wantonly into her mouth and she shudders before melting her body against yours. You can kind of see why Costia is so mad at you for taking this away from her but you’re not mad, not even a little, especially when her fingers tease against the side of your breast and she whines like it’s her being touched.

This might be the best Mathletic meet you have ever been to in your life.

\---

Your teacher has arranged for you all to go to a meal together in celebration of getting so far in the competition but, it seems, that’s one step too far to Lexa and she declines politely at spending an evening talking about school with a teacher. You don’t mind, you like her so much but you really are excited about your competition and she kisses you in the lobby--in front of everyone!--before you leave.

Maya asks shy questions; What is Lexa like? Is she nice? Is it scary to have a girlfriend?

You answer as best you can but the whole thing is surreal to you, not just that it’s Lexa but that someone is interested in you like that, and Maya seems to understand that feeling. And as much as you love Bellamy and Murphy and Raven--and you really, really, do--you love surrounding yourself with people like these. It’s quieter with them, more relaxed. Your friends like parties and football games and that’s sort of fun but it gets overwhelming sometimes and you like this peace; a quiet meal, jokes about education and conversations about college.

This is who you are too and what warms you the most is Lexa accepts it, even loves it, and that’s the surreal part. Because Bellamy is constantly encouraging you to be more social but Lexa doesn’t see that; she wants you to be comfortable, she can read that about you, and you know she kind of turned tonight down for that reason too.

When you walk back to the hotel, your teacher reminding you to get a good night's rest, Maya nudges you a little to look at the chairs in the lobby. “I guess you’re not coming back to our room tonight,” she teases but you can’t look away from Lexa. Lexa who, it seems, has settled in for the night with a book and another cup of Starbucks coffee as she waits for you. She’s reading quietly, sitting alone, and you know she’s waiting for you to come back. You don’t know how long she’s been sat there waiting but it makes your heart jump a little and when she looks up you feel it stop when she smiles. “I’ll cover. Don’t worry.”

“Goodnight,” you say to Maya because, honestly, you don’t know what she said to you. Your focus is entirely on the way that Lexa closes her book and stands elegantly, making her way over to you with a smile towards your friends and how she greets you with a kiss to your forehead.

“Is it my turn to have your attention now?” She asks and you feel your knees go a little weak at her question, at the hopeful look in her eyes, and you really need to know what you did to get this lucky. Her hand comes up and traces your jawline for no other reason you can tell except that she wants to touch you and you lean in to kiss her, your own hand moving to the back of her head. Her eyes are still closed when you pull back and you’ve never thought yourself a good kisser until her. “Mm, is that a yes then?”

“Take me to your room, Lexa,” you say and she snaps her eyes open, narrowing them quickly.

“We really need to work on the way you word things.”

You laugh and kiss her again in apology but she doesn’t seem to care and she drags you behind her again. She knows you’re not ready, and some hotel in Dante isn’t the place you envisioned sleeping with her for the first time, but you know she doesn’t mind and that makes you fall harder. Although, judging by her reactions, you might just kill her when you finally tell her when you are ready.

You can’t wait.

**SATURDAY**

You wake up nervous.

The sky is still red from the rising sun and the clouds grey but you don’t feel tired, you feel scared. It’s not a big deal if you lose, your school doesn’t get much from you winning, but it’s a pride thing and you really want Lexa to see how good you are. You know that’s a little selfish and needy but she shows you all the time how cool she is, how popular, and this is your version and you want to be good for her. You want to be good for your friends too; you’ve all worked hard, studied for hours, and even though it seems to come naturally to people like Monty and Maya you know they’ve put a lot of effort into being here today.

Lexa wriggles next to you and her arm tightens around your waist. Next to you on the floor are a few notes you threw together, old Mathlete questions you found online, and you glance at them. The competition starts at 10:30 but you have to sign in at 09:00, and you reach across to pick one of your phones up to check the time. It’s before five but you instantly know it’s Lexa’s phone from the several messages on her phone, which makes you smirk. You distracted her enough to not notice people wanting her.

_You._

There are more than a few messages from Costia that you can see but you pretend to not notice them. There’s one from Lincoln that has your name in it, and one from Octavia, but you don’t want to read her private messages and you put the phone back down.

Sometimes the scale of how popular she is overwhelms you. When you’re together you can forget that side of her but, sometimes, you can’t be ignorant to the fact her phone is _always_ chiming and that people always say hello to her or that one picture of herself online gets more likes than all of your pictures put together. She has thousands of Facebook friends and she’s never alone and yet...She clings to you. Her arms wrap around you tightly. She kisses you.

It’s bizarre and you love it.

“I swear, Griffin, if you make a habit of waking up before the rest of the world we’re really going to have to talk seriously about sharing a bed,” comes from the body next to you and you chuckle, settling back down against her body and kissing what you hope is her forehead. The amount of messy hair covering her though kind of makes it hard to see _anything_ and it’s adorable.

“I’ve told you before I like it better when you call me Clarke.”

She shifts and her hair moves off of her face but her eyes are still closed and she’s frowning irritably. “I like it better when I used to sleep ‘til noon but then I fell for a girl who thinks seven a.m is a damn lie in.”

“That girl is very happy you fell for her,” you try and it works. She wakes up with a smile on her face and you count that as a win, as a perfect start to your day. “Good morning. If it helps I don’t want to be awake.”

“Why are you?”

Her voice is deeper in the mornings and it sends a shudder throughout your body. She sounds like she does after kissing you for hours. “Nervous.”

“Don’t be,” she says and lifts her hand from your waist to move some hair behind your ear. There’s still a little hesitance in her _actually_ moving but she’s trying and it’s cute. Beneath the sheets your bare legs tangle and she runs her foot up the back of your calf, soothing you. “You’re the smartest girl I’ve ever met in my life, Clarke. And the rest of those nerds are kind of clever too. You’ve got this, and even if you don’t you’re still way hotter than anyone else in the world.”

“I just want to do well,” you admit quietly and before you can look away she’s already kissing you, a long chaste kiss that you’re sure is going to be tattooed on your lips for the rest of the day.

“You will,” she says sincerely and then she’s rolling onto her back, her hand coming up to rub the sleep from her eyes as she reaches around for her phone. “What time is it?”

“Four Forty-Five,” you cringe and she turns to you incredulously, her mouth dropping open a little, and in a move that tells you she doesn’t believe you she grabs her phone. “Sorry.”

She completely ignores her messages as she looks at the time and lets out a loud noise that lets everyone in the hotel know how displeased she is at this new information. “It’s a good job you’re so pretty,” she grumps and you kiss her temple before cuddling into her side. “I was going to ask if you wanted to make out but you’re going to study some more, aren’t you?”

You hide yourself in her neck and she laughs lazily. She thumbs through her phone and you watch distractedly as she replies to a few messages and act disinterested when she deletes flirty ones from numbers you don’t know. “I’m only going to study a little while,” you tell her, thumbing at the shirt she’s wearing, and she hums to let you know she heard you. “Maybe you can save your kisses as my reward?”

“I like the confidence that you think you’re going to deserve a reward,” she humors you but you know she won’t pass up the opportunity to kiss you and, instead of arguing, you watch as she manages her social media. There’s a few pictures from Bellamy’s party and although he said it’d be small, it looks crazy. The amount of people on the pictures make you glad you didn’t go but you see Anya with Bellamy in one picture and you look up at your girlfriend, wondering if she regrets not being a part of it. “Anya looks wasted,” Lexa giggles, showing you the picture and you smile at it.

“Bellamy said it’d only be small,” you say and watch as she scrolls through the pictures of people you’ve never met outside of the Blake household. “Are you mad you didn’t get to go to it?”

Lexa laughs, dropping her phone to her stomach. “I only went to those shitty things to see you. It drove Anya crazy,” she says, repeating words she said to you before, and still unfailing in making your heart race. “This is so much better than waking up with a hangover and covered in glitter.”

You move in to kiss her but your own phone chimes and she growls a little. “One minute,” you say, pressing your lips to the swell of her cheek and she acquiesces silently. The message is from your Mathlete group and it seems you’re not the only one awake. You glance at Lexa, feeling guilty, but she shakes her head.

“Go. Study,” she waves her hand at you and you smile at how simple it is. “I’m going to sleep a little longer and then I’ll come by your room before we go.”

“Thank you,” you grin and she looks at you sleepily, completely content against the white sheets. She really is beautiful when she’s natural like this.

“Whatever. You’re the one missing out on cuddles and then making out in the shower before we leave,” Lexa smirks and it hits you right where she was aiming. She laughs when you look torn about what to do and nudges your thigh softly, her head pressing harder into the pillows before she closes her eyes. “Go, Clarke. You know you want to.”

“I’ll see you soon,” you reply, kissing her once more before getting out of bed and throwing on some comfortable clothes. If you study now you can shower before you have to leave.

It takes you ten minutes to leave the room. Lexa is asleep as soon as you leave the bed but you can’t stop looking at her, savoring how lucky you are, and you hope beyond hope that you make her as happy as she makes you.

\---

You’re all nervous when you get to the building but Lexa is holding your hand as you enter.

She kisses you deeply before you go through the doors where entrants must sign in but that only makes your heart pound harder. But she tried, you think, and it just makes you even more crazy about her.

\---

There are a few solo exams you have to take with your team before you go up on the stage and they are set away from the auditorium. It means people who are coming to watch generally have free time and you wonder what Lexa is doing with hers. She didn’t have to come as early as she has; the main competition starts after lunch but she was insistent and you only gave in because your teacher-- _your teacher--_ grew tired of your bickering.

\---

“My mom text me to tell you good luck,” she announces as she walks towards you during your lunch break. She’s not technically supposed to be here and your eyes widen at her entrance, as do a lot of other eyes, and she stops for a minute looking completely confused why everyone is staring at her. “What?”

“How did you get back here?”

She looks over her shoulder and you glance at your teacher who looks completely exasperated by your girlfriend's antics. Then again, she knows Lexa. Why you’re all so surprised is shocking in itself. “I came through those doors,” she says calmly, her thumb pointing over her shoulder. “I was coming to ask if you all wanted me to do a coffee run or something because it’s totally boring out there and there is literally nobody my age around. Nobody stopped me.”

“Wearing that I don’t think anyone would,” Miller teases and you want to glare at him but her jeans are sinfully tight and she’s wearing heels to a damn Math competition. She always goes a little extra with her appearance and it seems a random nerd competition in Dante isn’t going to stop her. “You look nice.”

She grins at that, looking down at her clothes. “Thanks. You look…” Lexa pauses there because you’re all wearing matching polo necks and you know none of you are pulling them off. “Ready to win.”

“Hey, focus,” you say and she looks back at you sheepishly. “You’re not allowed to be back here. If someone catches you and accuses you of giving us the answers or something we can be disqualified.”

She looks sad that she can’t be here and you pout at her a little in sympathy. “So, no coffee then?”

“We didn’t say that,” your teacher perks up a little and it makes you laugh. “Come on, Lexa. You can be supportive from the other side of the door.”

Your girlfriend waves at you cutely as she leaves and it's hard to ignore the laughter from your friends but you try.

\---

Why you’re shocked when the name on your cup says “Beautiful” with a heart you don’t know but you’re definitely going to thank her for that later.

\---

When you finally head up to the stage to face the first of the two other schools competing your nerves hit their all time high. Your stomach is swirling and you’re sure you’re sweating, which probably is making you look a complete mess, but you look out into the dark seats in front of you and gasp.

Sitting there, with your grinning girlfriend, is Bellamy, Anya, Raven and Murphy. You don’t know how she managed to do it, or why she would even think to do it, but it makes you laugh anyway and it takes a nudge from Monty to calm you down. Lexa is practically vibrating at the edge of her seat at the sight of you and your friends are in various hungover stages from what you can tell, but they’re there. All of them. For you.

Because of her.

\---

You win the first round.

And the second.

The final round is scheduled for after a small break, where you can eat briefly and get something to drink, and the invigilator has barely finished his sentence before you’re scrambling off of the stage to throw yourself at Lexa.

She catches you with a laugh and it’s the best feeling in the world. You have twenty minutes to refresh and compose yourself but you know you’re going to be spending them in her arms.

\---

You actually win but it’s so close that you don’t notice it happen. You’re neck and neck with the other school and the girl, Ontari, only blows it because she takes longer than her forty-five seconds to answer correctly and her answer is voided.

You’re broken from your stupor by Lexa loudly shouting, from the front row. “My girlfriend is so much smarter than all of you,” and it makes you laugh, and laugh, and laugh.

When you look down your friends are clapping for you even as they wince through their headaches, even Anya kind of, and it makes up for all the parties they drag you to and the social interactions you have to deal with. Because you think you might take the fact they like you for who you are too for granted sometimes and you really, really, want to thank them.

\---

“That was badass, Griffin!”

“You did amazing.”

“I mean, it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen you do.”

“Lexa made me come.”

Green eyes focus on you when you all emerge from the back area and your friends surround you, patting your back and looking at the little trophy you got. There’s a bigger one that the school keeps but you don’t care about that one because you got a tiny, cute one and you really want to show Lexa.

She’s standing just to the side, leaning against a pillar with Anya whispering in her ear, and she lets you get swept up with your friends excited chatter. Raven is practically glowing for you and even Murphy is attempting a smile. You’re wrapped up in Bellamy’s arms, his familiar scent clouded by alcohol, and it reminds you just how early Lexa dragged them here. You wonder if she let them shower or if she yelled enough that they rolled out of bed and came to support you. That thought makes you giggle to yourself and you hug Bellamy tighter.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this happy.

\---

“We’re staying an extra night,” Lexa tells you when you finally have a chance to be alone. After the competition there were photos and you were all separated again. Offering his room for showers, Miller let Bellamy and Murphy take his key so they could freshen up and Anya went with Lexa’s key back to her room with Raven. Without all of your friends there it was so much quieter but your heartbeat deafens you as Lexa wraps her arms around your body, but it’s worth it. You love this feeling. “Here I mean. In Dante.”

“Why?” You ask, mostly because Dante is a pretty boring town but also because there’s no reason for you to stay now that the competition is out of the way.

“Because,” Lexa says, kissing you once, and it distracts you into silence. “I distinctly remember you saying that you deserve a reward for getting the answers right and since you got so, so, so many correct I think it’s going to take an entire night to give you what you deserve.”

Pleasure runs through your body at the thought and she leans down to kiss you deeply again. You’re wearing a sweaty polo neck and you’re holding a trophy for winning the nerdiest competition in the world. The girl holding you looks like a model, and she has model friends, and her life is so much more different to yours. But it feels right, it feels perfect actually, and you’re tired of acting like it means anything.

Lexa has proved over and over again that she’s more than completely invested in you and you really want to figure out a way to thank her properly.

“Take me back to your room, Lexa,” you repeat the words from the night before and she literally shakes under your touch, her breath coming out in a deep shudder that you feel tremble against your own mouth. She’s radiating pride, and you know that it’s for you, and you want to show her how thankful you are that she’s here for you. That she did everything she has today for you.

She kisses you again and it’s all you can do to not push her up against something. But you’re not there. _Yet,_ you think. You’re not there yet. “We have reservations with your friends at seven,” she says, almost like she’s reminding herself, and your heart swells more than she’s putting in this effort with your friends for you.

“They can wait,” you say and she closes her eyes, caught off guard, and she licks at her lips. “I’m not saying…”

“I know,” she cuts you off before you can embarrass yourself and you’re so glad you’re doing this with her, that she’s the one sharing this, because she reads you so easily and it’s not scary. “Don’t worry, that’s not where I was going with this. I just want you to know that you need to set an alarm or something because when I start kissing you it’s so hard to stop.”

You snicker at that because as aloof and mature and cool as she can sometimes be, she’s also a hormonal teenager, and you love the differences in her. “We’ll set an alarm,” you reassure her with a giggle and she smiles so wide that you can’t kiss her.

“I can’t believe you’re the same girl who couldn’t kiss me the night she found out I was into her,” she smiles and takes your hand into hers, leading you out into the street and walking slowly towards your hotel. “You’re driving me crazy.”

\---

It takes all of your courage to do what you’re about to to, but you suck it up.

The shower is running when you step into the room and you close the door, your eyes tightly sealed with nerves as you let the covers drop from your body, and you open the door to step inside the cubicle. Lexa gasps and turns like you’ve scared the life out of her and her hand comes up to where her heart is, fear shining in her eyes that relaxes into arousal, and she looks at your questioningly.

“I never thanked you for being so supportive,” you try to say but you stutter and blush and you’re fighting hard to keep your eyes at a reasonable level and _why did you think this was a good idea_? You wanted to be smooth, like Lexa, but instead you’re pretty sure your blush has headed all over your body and you’re kind of cold.

Lexa seems to sense it and reaches out, waiting for you permissive nod before wrapping her arms around you, and you gasp when her wet body presses against yours. “I’m not complaining because this is so hot but you don’t have to thank me,” she says sweetly and she guides you under the warm spray, her eyes never straying from yours. “Are you okay?”

“Nervous.”

“Don’t be,” and it’s so familiar from your conversation this morning, where she reassured all of your fears, that you relax into her. “We don’t have to do anything.”

She’s right but there’s still a hickey visible on her neck from earlier that matches the scratches on your hips and her eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them. But you trust her, more than anyone. “Kiss me?”

She does and it’s gentle and your mind spins so fast than you have to reach out and grasp at her because you’re genuinely terrified you’re going to fall over. Your entire body is flushed and your face feels so hot, but she’s sweet and soft and her tongue barely presses against your own before she’s retreating and letting you dictate the pace.

You stumble a little in your daze and she presses up against the cold shower wall with the sexiest gasp you’ve ever heard, her mouth parting over yours, and she laughs kindly. “Look who's making all the first moves now, nerd,” she teases, reminiscent of your conversations back when you were just starting out, and you decide to not tell her that pressing her up against the wall was a complete accident.

\---

It doesn’t go past kissing but when you both walk into the restaurant that night to meet your friends she doesn’t look any less smug at their cheering.

Much like you used to you find you can’t stop looking at her when she’s talking or listening or breathing. But now she’s holding your hand when you do and looking back like she can’t stop either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me at: brokendevilwrites.tumblr.com


	3. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone thinks Lexa is this perfect girl but she's not; and it's when she's busy learning how to be a girlfriend, she shows her flaws the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen.
> 
> I hate this.
> 
> I hate this a lot, and I think you'll all hate it too. But this is a little from Lexa's view on the Clexa dynamic; it's messy and incoherent and it's very much like Lexa's mind. There isn't much more of a plot than simply to show how scared she is at how fast she's falling for Clarke.
> 
> Again, I'm sorry. This probably hasn't lived up to the long ass wait I've made you wait.
> 
> My bad.

**I**

 

“Hello, Lexa.”

She shouldn’t be surprised when she turns around to see Costia, but she is. Her focus has been entirely on her phone where she’s been texting her girlfriend, and she’s pretty sure Anya is telling her a story about her latest boy-toy, but it’s kind of hard to focus when Clarke is attempting to encourage her find something fun about Math class. 

Truthfully Clarke will sometimes say something that will make Lexa wonder how on Earth she is real. But then she’ll end her dorky little text with that stupid fucking blushing emoji and Lexa feels about thirty seconds away from wanting to push her up against a wall. It’s a lot of conflicting emotions in a small space of time, honestly, but Lexa loves it. 

“Costia,” she nods acknowledging the girl easily and she goes as far as even offering up a smile. She likes Costia well enough but she hasn’t felt her loss all that much since being with Clarke, and really that should say everything that’s needed to be said but Costia has always struggled with being second best. “Are you having a good night?” 

Costia nods and leans against the counter next to Lexa, her hip pressing closer than necessary, and the move even manages to capture Anya’s attention who does nothing more than smirk. Shifting slightly, Lexa feigns having to reach around Anya to grab her drink but when she turns back Costia is still there. “So, where’s Clarke?”  

“Masturbating over some conspiracy theory probably,” Anya snickers and even though Lexa shoves her she doesn’t take her seriously. While she doesn’t say anything of the contrary Lexa knows that Anya quite likes Clarke; she likes how she’s beginning to stand up for herself, for others, how she doesn’t compromise when she wants something. “Whatever, I’m not complaining. That one she showed us about Starbucks kind of made sense, I’m just saying.”

“Right,” Costia says but there’s a saccharine smile on her lips that makes Lexa nervous. She tucks her hair behind her ear, tilts her head in a way that exposes the long line of her neck, and Lexa waits for the bullet to hit. Costia isn’t like her or Anya; they’re loud and brash and they take no prisoners. It’s not a mystery who they dislike, there’s no underhanded tactics or lies. But Costia knows how to play the game; in fact Lexa wouldn’t be surprised to hear that Costia invented the damn game. She’s sickly sweet and innocent and she lulls a person in before making the blow; it’s how she got Lexa. That much she can admit. “So you and her, that’s still a thing?” 

Lexa takes a long drink of the sweet liquid. It’s not something she’d choose usually but Lincoln made it for her as soon as she walked in the door and she was far too lazy to go and make something for herself. “Yes, my dating Clarke is still a thing. Just a spoiler it’s probably going to continue to be a thing. For a long time.” 

“Mm,” Costia straightens up a little in annoyance at the answer. When she’s really pissed off she clicks her tongue and Lexa waits for it before she’s distracted willingly. Her phone goes off in her hand and she smiles before she’s even read it, knowing immediately that it’s from Clarke, and she opens it to find a picture of her girl in bed. She’s cuddled up under her duvet, just her nose and eyes showing, and her message wishes Lexa a fun night. There’s a weight looking over her shoulder and Lexa knows that Costia is casting a judging look at the image. “She looks like a blast.” 

“Shut up, Costia,” Lexa glares, tapping out a quick response as she promises her girl that she’ll call her when she gets home. She wants nothing more than to go to Clarke’s house right now and climb into that bed with her, but she’s trying to impress Abby and making sure she doesn’t push Clarke too quickly. But still -- how nice would it be? 

Pushing herself away from the counter, Costia looks at Lexa and levels her with a glare that could kill a person at fifty yards. She’s all too aware that her position at the school is precarious right now, that it would be easy for people to turn against her, and her mind whirrs as Costia shakes her head. “You know she’s too good for you right? A girl like that,” she gestures to Lexa’s phone and the brunette yanks it back, despite Costia being nowhere near it, and she presses her teeth together. Costia looks at her like she’s just given Lexa the nicest compliment she can and Lexa inhales slowly because this is how she works, this is what she’s good at and she waits patiently for it to be over.  “She’s going to one of the Ivy League colleges, Lexa. She’ll leave. And good for her, you know? She deserves it since she’s put all of her effort into school rather than making a name for herself. But you’re different,  _ we’re  _ different, and you know that.” 

“You need to leave,” Lexa says lowly because she’s heard a lot of things about Clarke since attending these kinds of parties but this is something different, this is low. Costia is on a mission and Lexa hates that she doesn’t know what it is. “I don’t know what you’re getting out of this but it’s not going to work.” 

The girl shrugs, sparing Anya a cursory glance. “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” she says and her voice has switched to being angelic again, being soft. She steps closer to Lexa but seems to think again at the tense look she gets, but she doesn’t take a step back. “You deserve more than this puppy-dog act you’ve been putting on. Following her around, embarrassing yourself at  _ Mathlete  _ meetings. She can’t make you feel things like I do. Hell, I bet she’s never even seen herself naked. How is she supposed to know what to do to you?” 

An “oh shit,” from Anya  is the only warning that Costia and  Lexa get before the former is soaked with the drink in Lexa’s hand. For a second she has to look down, checking to see that she’s just done what she think she has, and the kitchen halts for a few seconds as they all take in the image. 

Lexa growls as she steps forward, her eyes blazing. “You might want to leave now, Costia,” she hisses and she watches as the girl spins on her heel to leave the room. She’s sure that’s not the last she’ll hear from Costia, or about what she’s just done, but she doesn’t care. “Would anyone else like to question my relationship with Clarke?” 

Everyone turns back to what they’re doing but the murmurs increase and Lexa knows that her name will be bouncing from the walls of the school come Monday. In Clarke’s eyes she might be the most popular, and that could be true despite how childish it sounds, but there’s still a hierarchy in school and there are rules. Turning on one of her friends for an ‘outsider’ is enough for people to start rumors, for people to glance her way and then giggle as they look away and whisper behind their hands.

“That was hot,” Anya says from behind the rim of her own drink, her laughter echoing into the plastic cup, and Lexa turns back to her with a schooled expression. “Really fucking stupid.. But totally hot.” 

**II.**

The thing that people don’t know about Clarke--(and never will if Lexa has a say in the matter)--is that she’s a little tease. She’s sort of torn between thinking the whole thing is an act and that Clarke knows exactly what she’s doing or that she’s just completely, utterly, devastatingly unaware of the power she actually holds. 

The girl can bring cities to their knees, can have leaders begging for mercy, makes Lexa plead for more, more,  _ more  _ and she’ll do it all with an innocent blink of those pretty blue eyes. 

“What?”

“What?”

“You’re looking at me weird,” Clarke says and then does a quick double take, looking down at her chest and then back up at Lexa with a confused tilt of her head. She rubs absently at her shirt, almost like she’s expecting crumbs to be the source of her distraction, and Lexa smiles at the movement. “Do I have something on me?”

Lexa leans in and kisses her because she can. Because the soft stream of sunshine coming through the window makes her look pale and gorgeous and perfect. Because her eyes are blue. Because she feels like it. This girl is  _ hers,  _ she can kiss her and hold her and press her body against her and there’s nothing wrong with it. No matter what people at school might say.

It’s with kiss-stained lips that she admits, “I’m just looking at you.”

“Maybe you should concentrate more on your biology work than on me,” Clarke laughs but there’s a beautiful blush on her cheeks that makes Lexa smile, that makes her mouth go dry and her fingers ache to touch her. “I don’t understand how you do so well on pop quizzes and exams when you’re so terrible at the classwork.”

Her obliviousness is something that endears Lexa to her more. How can she not see that she’s the reason Lexa is so distracted in class? How is it not obvious to her that Lexa was doing fine in bio until she moved seats and sat next to her? “Guess it’s a good thing I’m dating the smartest girl in school then,” she teases, pressing another kiss beneath her ear. The idea of even  _ looking  _ at a textbook is so unappealing to Lexa that it hurts to even think about opening it. Why would she when she has a sweet-smelling girl next to her, with skin just begging to be kissed? “Tutor me.”

“Lexa --”

The kiss is deeper this time, more meaningful. Lexa can taste the mint and candies that Clarke has been stashing all day, she can taste the orange soda neither of them should be drinking and she can taste Clarke. Her Clarke. “Tutor me,” she says again but her voice is deeper and she can feel the other girl shudder under her touch, her attempts at getting Lexa to study long since forgotten. 

“You’re a terrible influence,” Clarke gives in and pushes Lexa onto her back, her body easily moving to cover hers and Lexa doesn’t even try and stop herself from spreading her legs and shifting her hips so that they can press together fully. She knows how far they can take this, she knows what Clarke is comfortable with and she’s already eager to get there.

She needs to touch her. Feel the warmth of her skin, the tightening on her back muscles and press against them as they twist and shift under her touch. 

Clarke’s hands grip at the side of her neck, anchoring herself into the deep kiss, and Lexa wastes absolutely zero time in letting her hands wander down and press up under the vest-shirt her girlfriend is wearing. As much as she wants to be respectful, and she really, truly, does, it’s kind of a crime for Clarke to wear a tank that is that low cut and have boobs like that and really expect Lexa to be willing to study anything. 

Her hands skim up and she counts the ribs under her fingertips, marvelling that such an angel exists and is on top of her and moving so sinfully. Clarke’s hips move with a precision that Lexa knows is life changing, they rock and dip and press down perfectly and it leaves Lexa a gasping mess beneath her. 

Inexperienced, nervous, unsure. 

“Can I touch you?” She finally breathes into Clarke’s mouth and the girl nods quickly, aggressively, too lost inside of their kiss to really know what she’s saying. Lexa takes the opportunity to trail higher, her fingers tracing the hard underwire of her bra for a few seconds, before she pulls back again and waits for Clarke to cast her hazy eyes to hers. “I need you to say it, Griffin. Use your words.”

Clarke keens a little at the absence of Lexa’s mouth but she seems to understand the girl's reasoning and she smiles gratefully. “Touch me, Lexa,” she says, pressing herself harder into Lexa’s hands and body and it’s all Lexa can do not to combust right there on the bed. “Show me.” 

“I...You -- Niylah?” 

_ Smooth. _

“Do you really want to talk about how far me and my ex went, Lexa, or are you going to touch me?” 

There’s another thing people don’t know about Clarke and it’s how confident she is. Certain social situations make her anxious and Lexa has watched it happen, she knows how genuine Clarke feels when she’s uncomfortable; but when she wants something,  _ really wants something,  _ she’ll fight and she’ll stand up and Lexa sort of feels like an animal trapped in headlights when that confidence is turned on her. 

Clarke arches into her hand again and Lexa lets her fingers slip beneath the cup, her hand resting the weight of Clarke’s breast inside of her palm and she kneads experimentally as she looks up at the girl on top of her. When Clarke’s back curves once more, Lexa rolls a nipple between her fingers and laughs into the mouth that suddenly latches onto her own. Clarke’s kisses are rough and desperate and she’s only just managing to respond to them when the girl pulls away and sits up abruptly.

“Clarke…”

“You’re making me feel…” Clarke trails off, a confused little frown between her brows and Lexa pouts in sympathy. She understands the confusion, the little line between need and desire and aching want. Without another word the blonde takes the mess of a tank top off and swiftly strips herself of her bra, her arms hesitating between staying down and lifting to cover herself. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Lexa sits up under the weight of Clarke, her lips pressing to the hard breast bone in front of her and she lets her hands rest gently at the small of her girlfriends back. There’s a gentle blush moving up Clarke’s chest, bleeding up her neck and towards her ears and it’s almost too much for Lexa. Almost. 

“We’re not doing anything you’re not comfortable with,” she says quietly, patiently waiting as Clarke fingers the material of her t-shirt and she tilts her head until those pretty navy eyes turn back to her own. “You’re in control here, babe. Just tell me when you want to stop.”

Clarke smirks at that and hooks her finger into the front of Lexa’s t-shirt, tugging playfully. “I think you like the thought of me in control.”

“Oh, you have no idea the things I’ve thought about.”

They share a smile and it goes quiet for a minute before Clarke blinks, seemingly snapping out of whatever it was that she was thinking about and she tugs at Lexa’s t-shirt again. She shifts back and Lexa relaxes her arms enough to let Clarke pull and tug at her clothing until she is fully satisfied. She strips her of her t-shirt with trembling fingers, marvelling at the hard lines and soft slopes of her body, and unhooks her bra the very second that Lexa nods her consent. 

“Now we’re even,” Clarke whispers in that special way of hers. There’s a confidence in her blue, blue eyes that raises a heat in Lexa, one that makes her heart pound and her palms sweat. One that manages to make her feel innocent all over again despite the terrible things she’s done before. “Touch me again, Lexa.” 

With those words ringing in her ears Lexa raises her hands once more, cupping both breasts in her hand and leaning up to meet Clarke in a deep kiss that rocks right down into her core. Above her she hears the soft groan of Clarke, the soft reactions she’s having to Lexa touching her, and she lays back just to feel the girl's weight on top of her again. Her thumbs run across her nipples once before Lexa is overcome with greed, needing more. 

When she flips them, Clarke moans.

It’s nearly too much.

“How did I get a girl like you? God,” Lexa sighs and they’re nothing but a tangle of limbs and swollen lips and half-dressed bodies but it’s the most incredible Lexa has ever felt, the strongest she’s ever been. She kisses the pale pink that stretches over Clarke’s neck, dotting her blush with soft kisses and gentle marks that will fade by morning. Her body yearns for more but the way Clarke is responding, all breathy moans and hard touches, it’s so much more important that she gives her girlfriend everything she needs first. Since that moment Clarke walked into the shower with her in that little hotel room,  it’s all Lexa can think about. Pale skin and plump lips and perfect curves; it’s enough to drive a person crazy. “You’re incredible.” 

She kisses down Clarke’s body, her bottom lip edging over a nipple, before kissing the swell of her breast and she feels Clarke arch into her again. Needy hands dive into her hair, guiding her back to her chest, and Lexa takes her into her mouth happily; easily responding to whatever it is that Clarke needs. She hums against flushed skin, unable to stop touching her body with her other hand, and Clarke whispers her name reverently, “Lex. Lexa.” 

“You doing okay?”

“Yes,” Clarke hisses and Lexa smirks at the annoyance she can hear in it, the frustration. Good. Now Clarke knows how she feels on a daily basis. “Just...Above the waist today, okay?”

When Lexa looks at her she looks nervous; almost worried that Lexa might yell, or deny her, or laugh. Truth is, Lexa isn’t sure she’s all that ready either. Clarke is different to other girls, she’s special. “Whatever you need, Clarke,” she sighs happily, lifting her head to press another kiss to her addicting lips. “This is kind of blowing my mind anyway. I’m not sure what you might do to me if we go further today.”

“I haven’t even done anything,” Clarke laughs her off and Lexa frowns unsure what she said that could have been even remotely funny before she leans up to press her thigh between Clarke’s. It connect them more and Lexa shudders out a deep moan, the sound making Clarke’s eyes flutter slightly and she smiles at the reaction. “You’re kind of distracting.”

“Let’s see how much more distracting I can be before your mom gets home,” she grins, unable to stop her smile with Clarke and she lifts the girls hands to her own chest. “Your turn.”

\---

Anya is the one that notices first and Lexa shrinks back at the hard glare she receives when she walks into her friends house. The other girl folds her arms and makes a show of looking at the time and then back to Lexa, a disapproving sigh leaving her lips in the most dramatic fashion. 

“I was with Clarke.”

It’s not the best excuse and the minute long eye-roll she gets as an answer tells her that but it does nothing to get rid of the large grin on her face, or how her hands tingle or her stomach clenches or how she feels like she’s still under the weight of her girlfriends kisses. 

“I know you were with Clarke, it’s written all over your neck,” Anya tells her but she still shuffles her feet from the cushions so that Lexa can sit next to her, and the darker haired girl picks up the textbook Anya has helpfully left on the table untouched. “Plus you’re always with her.” 

“Stop pretending you care who I’m with. And the expression is written all over my  _ face _ .” 

The noise Anya makes in response is enough for Lexa to actually look at her friend and there’s a smirk on her otherwise emotionless face that worries Lexa for a split second, before Anya speaks. “She hasn’t painted hickies all over your face Lexa. Have you even seen yourself?” 

“No. I had to leave fairly quickly. Clarke’s mom came home early.”

“Is she the hot one?”

“Clarke is hot, yeah.”

“No, her mom,” Anya snorts and then seemingly gets bored of that line of questioning as she brings her hand up to poke at her friends neck roughly. “She’s marked you pretty good though. Who knew?” 

It comes to Lexa is fast, rapid flashbacks that she can’t take the time to savour. The darkened look in Clarke’s eyes and her eager fingers, the soft sighs and moans and desperate confusion between wanting more and not wanting to stop what was happening in that moment. She barely even noticed Clarke sucking marks on her skin, she was too lost in her, but she’s not exactly against the idea of carrying around a reminder of her girl. 

“Do I need to cover it up?”

Anya shrugs, uncaring again. “If you want,” she flips through the textbook until she finds the page she’s looking for and then puts it down again like her work is done. “I’d keep it. Gives Clarke a kind of cool edge she needs.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Anya, to her credit, doesn’t rise to the annoyance in Lexa’s voice and she shrugs once before scratching at the skin on her neck. “She kind of needs it,” she says and she lacks any type of empathy, a trait Lexa thinks she enjoys a little less when it’s aimed at her girlfriend. “She might be dating you but she’s still her, you know? That hasn’t changed.”

“I don’t want her to change.” 

“Okay,” Anya relents but she sounds like she’s saying it to save an argument rather than actually agreeing. “But you heard what Costia was saying about her. Others probably say it too.”

Lexa bristles, her teeth baring. “Clarke is special. Why can’t anyone else see that?” 

“Welcome to high school,” she shrugs in reply to her friend and Lexa narrows her eyes, irritated. “Look I like her, kind of. She’s more bite than she is bark, which surprised me, but it doesn’t mean she isn’t from another crowd. She doesn’t think like us. She has other priorities. Don’t you think that’s going to bite you in the ass eventually?” 

“No.”

Lexa hates this side of things; having to defend her relationship, having to talk like it’s some forbidden thing. She likes Clarke and Clarke likes her -- what more can there be? 

Anya shrugs again at her friends reply. “Then you’re an idiot if you think this has a happy ending.” 

“You’re truly a great friend,” Lexa snaps and Anya actually turns to look at her. “Shouldn’t you just want me to be happy? What does it matter who I’m with? So Clarke thinks there should be more to life than surviving high school, who cares? She’s a good person.” 

“Okay,” Anya nods and Lexa lets it drop, tired of the conversation, but something turns in her stomach. 

And she kind of hates it. 

**III**

It’s not that Lexa  _ dislikes  _ Bellamy Blake as such. It’s just that she doesn’t like him.

She’s not sure if it’s lingering jealousy, her own mind conjuring up images of Clarke and Bellamy together, or the fact that he parades himself around like he’s something special when he’s just another attractive boy with zero chest hair. It’s most possibly the former, she thinks, but when he corners her one day after her English lesson she just simply decides he’s a douche. Clarke is in a meeting with the Principal about her academic achievements and excellent grades, which is no surprise to Lexa, but having to walk to class without her kind of sucks after getting used to it for so long. 

She’s contemplating just skipping walking to the class and simply heading by the Principal's office when Bellamy steps in front of her, his chest puffed out to make his letterman look a little tighter and it takes Lexa longer than necessary to convince herself to not just punch him.

“So,” he says, putting his hands into his pockets and Lexa waits for him to continue but it seems his protective speech just ends there and she raises an eyebrow at him in annoyance. “Lexa.” 

“Bellamy.” 

“So you know who I am.”

She really doesn’t have time for this but she’s also aware that Clarke definitely won’t stay at her house during Spring Break if she jabs her fingers into this idiots throat, so she relents. “Of course I do. You’re the guy that cried in my kitchen after my best friend took your virginity,” she shrugs and there’s a great satisfaction in the way Bellamy shifts quickly towards her, clearly embarrassed and annoyed. “Don’t worry. You were what, fourteen? Everyone cries at that age. Or so I’ve heard.”

“I didn’t cry,” he protests and he shoulders his bag a little tighter, his lips pursed. “My mom called me yelling and I...You know what? I’m not doing this with you.”

Lexa shrugs. “Alright, bye,” she calls out, ready to move around the larger frame, but he steps to his right and Lexa sighs so deeply that the girl passing on their left gives them a double take. “Can you make this quick? I have Pike next and I’m pretty sure he’s out to get me. Not particularly into the idea of him giving me a detention for being late to his class because some moron doesn’t know how a protective speech works.”

“You’ll be fine, we share that class and Pike loves me. I’ll cover for us,” Bellamy says and it’s so beyond the point Lexa was trying to make that she lifts her hand and actually rubs at her temples. “How did you know this was going to be some protective speech?”

“Because you seem to think that you’re some sort of big brother to your little group of friends and that it’s your role to give out speeches when, in reality, it has nothing to do with you what your friends--or your sister, actually--get up to in their private lives,” Lexa snaps out, quiet but no less fierce in her delivery. “Listen, I know you love her and she definitely cares about you. Probably even loves you because her heart is the biggest thing I’ve ever seen. But save the speech, okay? You don’t have to trust me and it’s not you I want to impress. The only one I care about is Clarke and she’s pretty fine with me.” 

Bellamy fumbles at that and stops for a second, his eyes darting away from Lexa and then back again as he tries to think up a reply in his mind. But Lexa doesn’t need his approval, she was never looking for it, and in the time it takes for him to formulate some sort of response she’s already working to move past him and towards her class.

“You really care about her? Because there are people in this school who...They’re dicks. And I can’t stop them all, you know? I want to but I can’t. And I need to know you’re not one of them because she’s important. To all of us. You care, right?” 

Lexa stops and turns. There’s something vulnerable in Bellamy’s voice that intrigues her, that makes her stop, and when she looks at him he has his hand at the back of his neck and he’s rubbing at it nervously. It’s not hard to see that he cares about his friends and it softens Lexa a little because Clarke deserves someone like that. She doesn’t like him, sure, but he’s not  _ bad.  _ “More and more everyday, Blake,” she replies honestly, because he sort of deserves it after his plan went to shit. “It’s kind of freaking me out how much I like her.” 

“Okay,” he shrugs and he’s walking towards her before Lexa can tell him not to. “Want to walk to class together?” 

She looks at him blankly before sighing again. “Not really,” she says and he laughs at that, deep and lovely. It’s not that he’s a particularly bad person but Bellamy never seems to have a plan; his parties are always planned by Clarke; Lincoln or Finn usually take over on the field when they’re playing football and he only tends to do something productive if it involves his sister. Bellamy is all about the aggressive attack rather than the long-term plan, and that translates into him personally. But he’s okay, Lexa decides. Not the sort of the guy she’ll ever hang out with willingly, but he’s okay. 

“Is it true that you wanted to be with my sister last year?” 

Lexa smirks, “Bellamy, you’d hate to hear about the things I wanted to do with your sister last year.” 

\---

The thing with dating the smartest girl in school is having to contend with all of the clubs. There’s societies and clubs and meetings and Lexa’s fine with it, she is, but sometimes having to sit in a room with a bunch of idiots while the prettiest girl in the world isn’t even within touching distance is irritating. 

“I’ll bring it up with Jaha the next time I see him,” Clarke promises as she brings the Student Council Meeting to a close. There had been some debate about how only the popular kids get the chance at the better parking spaces and Lexa is still stinging from the amount of glares she received about that but it’s done now and watching Clarke preside over everyone, making rules and shooting people down, has kind of turned her on more than she was expecting. 

How Clarke ever sees herself as anything short of spectacular baffles Lexa but she guesses it’ll be fun to watch the realisation dawn on her when she finally figures out how amazing she actually is. 

“You know, I think Monty was right when he said you’re not really allowed to sit in on these meetings,” Clarke smiles after everyone is dismissed and it’s just the two of them. Lexa shrugs as she watches Clarke pack her things away and she stands up, holding her hand out in willing to take Clarke’s bag. Instead she feels the soft fingers of her girlfriend's hand slide between her own and she hides a smile as she ducks her head.

“Aren’t you the leader? I was waiting on your word and I’d have left,” she teases and Clarke rolls her eyes, much like she does when she’s thinking that Lexa is being ridiculous again. “I think you wanted me to stay.” 

“I always do.”

As they walk out into the hall Lexa is still smirking to herself as Clarke chatters away. She’s talking about how some things that get brought up in the meetings are ridiculous and she’s reciting a story about how Monty had once tried to get cannabis legalised within the school to bring down stress and anxiety during exam periods. 

“I’m not entirely against it,” Lexa laughs and Clarke kisses her as she holds the door open, happy and elated and completely besotted with one another. 

“Move,” a voice interrupts them and Lexa is startled as Clarke stumbles into her, only slightly, and she feels her chest expand with annoyance. “I swear, someone kissed the loser once and now she thinks she’s all that.” 

Lexa sees red before she can really focus and she slips out of Clarke’s hand, the girls fingertips trailing over her forearm, as she blazes a path towards the idiot who pushed by them. “What did you just say?” 

“I said --” The two girls spin around at the voice and Lexa preens at the wide eyed look she gets, the brief flash of fear on their faces, and she lowers her glare to both of them. The one who spoke, light haired and rich looking, rolls her eyes and Lexa knows immediately that she was the one who pushed Clarke. “Nothing. Whatever.” 

“Tell me what you just called her.” 

The other girl--Ontari, Lexa remembers her from gym--shakes her head and tugs on the girl's arm. “C’mon Nia, it’s not worth it,” she mutters and Lexa narrows her eyes on both of them, recognising their faces. The blonde is on the Cheer Squad with Octavia; desperate enough to be popular but never quite reaching her goal.

“She’s a loser and we both know it,” Nia says and Lexa isn’t sure who she’s speaking to but her fingers clench anyway and she steps closer to the two girls in front of her. The blonde seems to enjoy the light in Lexa’s eyes, seems to straighten out and stand taller like she’s enjoying it, and she inches closer. “She’s barely even worth the mention but you were blocking our way out. We saw you with Costia at the party though, it’s good to keep your options open. Good for you. Most of the girls on the Cheer Squad have a bet going on how long it’s going to be before you cheat on her. If you can hold out just a little longer, I’ll be real grateful.” 

She doesn’t even think about it when she raises her hand to slap an open palm across the girl's face.

She barely even hears Clarke yelling her name. 

She’s sick and tired of the way people disrespect Clarke; of the way they treat her, talk about her, act like she’ll pick up their pieces and make everything better. 

Nia moves to retaliate but Lexa is pulled back almost immediately, two arms circling around her waist, and she feels a soft kiss against the shell of her ear. 

“She’s changed you Lexa,” Ontari says, more confident now that Clarke has her arms wrapped around her body and Lexa stiffens. “You’re different now.” 

“Hey, what’s going on?” Calls from across the parking lot and Nia and Ontari move quickly, already escaping to a silver car and bundling themselves into it before the voice gets closer. 

Lexa glances across, noticing it’s not a teacher--possibly a parent waiting for someone--and turns to Clarke, ready to face the lashing.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she shrugs, her eyes scanning Clarke’s face. She finds frustration and annoyance and guilt and she presses her lips together, unsure what to even say. “What?”

“You can’t just go around hitting people because you don’t like what they say about me. About us.”

Lexa scoffs, folding her arms over her chest childishly. “Yes I can.” 

“People are always going to say bad things about me,” Clarke says and Lexa clenches her jaw tightly and shifts her eyes away. The parent who yelled before has gotten back into their car and Nia seems to have left the parking lot; it’s just her and Clarke but she still feels like everyone is staring at them, like everyone is judging them. She’s not used to it. She’s used to being the one who calls the shots, who is never questioned, and she isn’t sure if she likes how it feels now. “Are you going to hit them all?”

“Yes.”

Clarke sighs, fond. “Lexa, just ignore them,” she says and lifts her hand, tracing a finger down the tight muscle in Lexa’s jaw. “You don’t always have to solve violent words with violent actions. There’s power in being peaceful.” 

“Fine,” Lexa huffs, annoyed at being spoken to like a child but unwilling to get into an argument where she knows Clarke is just trying to do the right thing. This is who she is, she thinks. She can make people respect her and Clarke. “Can we go home now?” 

When Clarke nods Lexa knows she isn’t satisfied but it’s better than an argument and she lets it go.

She doesn’t know what stings more; her hand, or the fact people really think she’ll betray Clarke like it’s some sort of inevitability. 

**IV**

“Where’s your little attachment? I thought even the sound of you cracking open a textbook would have her running in here.”

Lexa scowls down at her assignment, irritated and annoyed by the constant comments and even more angry when it seems her mother doesn’t seem to notice the discomfort that seems to be radiating off of her at the name. It usually doesn’t bother her much; Clarke seems to rise above the name calling and the whispers and people who narrow their eyes at her, but Lexa can’t. She wants to let it slide but she can’t. 

Part of her wonders if she was deaf to it before. Now she’s attuned to everything Clarke Griffin, she hears everything and notices everything and it’s not all positive. She’s been so lost in her haze of how perfect her girlfriend is that she finds it hard to believe that people don’t like her, that people think she’s wrong.

She hates it.

“She’s called Clarke, mom,” Lexa sighs, finishing her last question. Despite what a lot of people assume about her, and she knows they assume a lot, Lexa knows she’s smart. School isn’t hard -- she just doesn’t like it. There’s something about being told what she can and cannot study that frustrates her, annoys her. But it’s a necessity and she’s willing to do it to get further in life. “And she’s coming over later.”

“Oh, is she? Because I don’t remember agreeing to that.” 

Her mom is busy at the counter, chopping vegetables that she’s preparing for her lunch at work the next day and Lexa rolls her eyes where she can’t see. “I thought you wouldn’t mind. We were going to stay in the den anyway and watch a movie. Clarke is bringing something over.”

“Ten bucks says it’s something nerdy and you fall asleep ten minutes in.” 

“Whatever,” Lexa snaps and it’s enough for her mom to stop cutting her food and turn around, one eyebrow raised. “Can she come or not? I don’t want her to set off and then have to go back home again. Her mom is on a night shift and she hates being in the house by herself.”

Clicking her tongue, the oldest Woods levels Lexa with a deep glare. “I’ll tell you whether she can stay or not when you explain where this attitude has come from.” 

“I don’t have an attitude. I just want to know if my girlfriend is allowed to spend an evening with me,” Lexa makes a move to stand up but her mom raises her hand, slender fingers pressing together and showing her palm. It’s the same gesture that Lexa has been used to since she was a child; it’s an invitation to halt, to calm down, and she kind of hates that she responds to it. “Just...Whatever.” 

“You’re eloquent tonight.”

She scratches at her nose as she looks away, her jaw tight. “Yeah, well, I guess my ‘nerdy’ girlfriend has inspired something in me,” she mutters and she doesn’t need to look to know her mom is concerned. “Can I go?” 

“No.”

“Mom, drop it. I just want to go to my room.”

“And I want to know where my daughter has gone,” her mom pries softly and Lexa breathes in through her nose deeply as she woman takes a seat across from her, her hands patiently tidying away Lexa’s work as a way of wasting a little time while Lexa gathers her thoughts. “Usually when I mention Clarke it sets of a reaction in you that means you don’t shut up complimenting her for an hour. What’s going on?” 

At the softer tone Lexa rests her elbows on the counter and rubs her palms together, her forehead eventually resting against her hands as she closes her eyes. “I don’t know. Costia said some things the other night at that party I went to and then there were these girls -”

“Do I need to speak to your principal?” 

“Mom, no. Don’t be weird,” Lexa fights but there’s a smile on her lips that causes her to open her eyes and look at the woman who people often say she looks the most like. She knows people look at them strange but she means it when she says her mom is her best friend too and she feels comfortable opening up. “I just...Everyone has these perceptions of me and her, you know? They think she’s a loser or some kind of...She’s different to them and they don’t like it. And they act like she’s not this amazing girl even though she is. Costia said she’s going to leave me eventually because she’s way too smart to not go to, like, an Ivy League school and everyone else thinks I’m just going to cheat on her or hurt her.”

Her mom, as patient as ever, smiles at her gently and taps at her wrist in a comforting gesture. “And are you?”

“What?”

“Going to hurt her? Like all of those people seem to say,” she continues, a scowl similar to Lexa’s earlier one marring her face. “Are they right about you?” 

Lexa shakes her head. “No, of course not,” she grunts, her hands falling to the table with a soft thump. “I’m just scared she’s going to hurt me. I like her so much, mom. She’s smart and funny and the hottest kisser --”

“Okay I’m going to get you to stop there,” her mom laughs and Lexa smirks because, sometimes, it’s a little too easy to get under peoples skin. Leaning into the hand her mom places on her cheek, Lexa sighs happily, and she lifts her own hand to rest there. “What people think means nothing, Lexa. Only your actions mean something. You’re going to accidentally hurt Clarke eventually, okay? And she’s going to hurt your feelings too. I’m not going to lie or pretend about that. That’s life. You might miss an important text or there’ll be some missed communication or lost words, it happens. But baby, if you don’t want to intentionally hurt the girl then you don’t. It’s that simple. And you work on it together. Remember when you thought she didn’t want you at her little competition and all it ended up being was that she thought you wouldn’t like it? You were mature about it then.” 

“But what if she hurts me intentionally?”

At that, her mom sighs and Lexa hopes she’s half the woman her mom is. “You have to trust that she cares about you as deeply as you care about her. Do you think that she does?” 

“Yes,” Lexa says without hesitation. “I just hate that people can’t see her the way that I see her. I don’t want her to believe that she can’t do everything, you know?”

“I suppose it gives you a little more time to see more of her then,” she replies quietly and stands from her chair to move around the counter. Lexa doesn’t wait to wrap her mom in her arms, savouring the little kiss she gives her, and she whispers her thanks into her chest. “Tell her she can come over if it is okay with her parents. I’ll drive you both to school in the morning if you want. I have a few early meetings in the office to take care of.” 

Lexa thinks of early morning make outs in her car and shakes her head. “It’s okay, I’ll drive.” 

“Make sure you’re on time then,” her mom scolds softly, brushing a finger against her nose. “And your door needs to stay open, alright? It’s a school night.” 

“Okay.”

\---

Lexa hopes Clarke can feel her smile in her text because it’s so big she’s sure it’s going to break her face. 

\---

“So...He dies.”

“Yeah.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes, Lexa. It’s part of the story.”

She sighs, annoyed, and  rolls her eyes a little at the soft laugh that Clarke lets out at her dramatics. A few months ago she wouldn’t have even thought to put a movie like this on, in fact she rarely ever watched movies, but Clarke was insistent and Lexa has struggled for a long time to say no to the girl. “It’s a stupid story.” 

“Mm, you liked it,” Clarke says but she yawns softly and makes a soft squeaking noise in the middle as she stretches her body alongside Lexa’s. She rests her hand heavily back on the girl's chest and Lexa smiles at the sensation of impossibly soft fingers tracing against the edge of her collarbone, nails scratching slightly. “Are you sure your mom is okay with me staying tonight?” 

“Yeah, she loves you,” Lexa murmurs, too focused on the way Clarke’s hips curve around hers as they lay on the couch and the weight of her head on her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure you’re her favourite. I’d be jealous but I kind of understand where she’s coming from.” 

Clarke buries her face at that, overwhelmed. It still shocks Lexa that Clarke can’t imagine that anyone would think of her as anything more than ordinary. She’s perfect, Lexa thinks. She faces obstacles and ridicule and she still stands strong, she still wakes up and takes on the day with a beautiful smile and mesmerizing eyes. She’s sort of a hero to Lexa but she can’t say that yet; she doesn’t think she’s ready. 

“Are you tired? We can go to bed if you want,” Lexa whispers but her girlfriend shakes her head, seemingly not willing to move from the comfort of the den just yet. Her hands roam over Clarke’s body, down to her hip and over her ribs, and she basks in the fact she’s allowed to do this. That this girl is  _ hers,  _ and that’s okay. 

“I don’t want to do anything,” Clarke murmurs and Lexa can hear the smile in her voice, the comfort, and Lexa turns her head slightly to the noise. “I just want you.” 

Of all the things that Clarke has done to make her smile, it’s  _ that  _ which makes her smile the most and she has to lean her head back into the pillows to try and stop her from looking so ridiculous at four simple words. It feels so much more than  _ ‘I love you’  _ or  _ ‘I want to be with you’  _ and Lexa doesn’t want to think about what that might mean. 

“You have me,” she replies and the only noise following it is Clarke’s movement as she edges out from where she’s been wedged between Lexa’s body and the back of the couch. She shifts on top of Lexa, hips bracketing her own, and neither hesitate as lips meet in a gentle kiss that rocks Lexa hard. “Sometimes I don’t know why you want me but I’m not going to argue the case. I’m happy with the way things are right now.” 

Clarke smiles at that, kisses below her ear. “I want you because you’re strong,” another kiss on her neck, just enough for Lexa to arch up into the touch. “I want you because you’re talented and loyal. You love deeply. You make me feel safe and important. Everyone in the school looks up to you, Lexa, but you trust me enough to care for you.” 

“That’s because I --” 

Clarke lifts her head at that, reacting to the words, and Lexa softens her gaze with a gentle smile. “What?”

“That’s because you’re you,” she finally breathes out and it’s not a lie, it doesn’t feel like a lie, and it feels just as important as  _ ‘I just want you’.  _ “You make it easy.” 

“Don’t call me easy,” Clarke quips but she’s blushing and it’s beautiful and Lexa’s stomach swoops and swirls and twists in excitement. Why can’t everyone see this side of her? Then again, Lexa thinks as Clarke kisses her and the girls taste floods her mouth, she doesn’t want anyone having this part of Clarke. This part is all hers. 

\---

Clarke is asleep when she whispers it but it doesn’t make it any less real. 

“You’re making me weak,” she whispers into Clarke’s hair and the girl doesn’t move, doesn’t even shift. “Ontari was right. You are changing me. You’re making me weak and I don’t know what to do.” 

**V.**

When Lexa finally finds a word for everything she’s feeling, she panics.

It’s the type of panic that leads her to pressing quick kisses to Clarke’s lips instead of letting them linger; it’s the type of panic that has her answering messages bluntly and without any type of flirtation; it’s the type of panic that causes her to do the one thing she promised she’d never do, despite everyone saying she would; it’s the type of panic that hurts Clarke and she doesn’t know how to make up for it any more than she knows how to deal with falling in love.

\---

“Are you fighting?”

“No.”

“But you’re not sitting next to her today?”

“Nope.”

Anya sighs and Lexa looks away, knowing if she doesn’t that she’ll be called out, and makes accidental eye contact with Costia. The girl hasn’t spoken to her since Lexa threw a drink on her but she manages a smirk at the new seating plan that Lexa seems to have adopted that has left Clarke alone with Raven and looking despondent and confused, and Lexa back with Anya and Lincoln looking equally upset. 

When she turns back, Anya is ready to strike. “You’re going to make her cry.” 

“No I just --” When Lexa finally,  _ finally,  _ casts her gaze across the room she’s stricken by how sad her girlfriend looks and she grips her pen a little tighter, annoyed at herself for her frankly childish behaviour. “Oh.”

“See?”

“Maybe I need a little space, did you ever think about that? Everyone is so busy with their own opinions about my relationship that they’ve never asked me what I’m thinking.” 

Anya taps her pen on the table, much to the annoyance of Lincoln who is  _ actually  _ paying attention to the teacher, and hums softly in agreement. “Weren’t you the one who obsessed over her first?” 

“I wasn’t obsessed --”

“And weren’t you the one who pursued her?”

“I just --” 

“And not to cause some kind of discourse but shouldn’t you have a mutual agreement for space or are you just doing whatever you want to do without consulting Clarke. Again.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?  _ Again. _ ”

Anya looks at her with serious eyes and Lexa shrinks a little. She’s not scared of her friend but she knows when she’s being serious and her heart thuds twice in loud succession before Anya seems to get her words together. “You followed the poor girl around like a lost puppy for nearly a year without saying  _ anything  _ and then expected her to be totally okay with you being into her. You’ve now decided you want space and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’ve probably not told her anything about that either,” Anya states her facts with a stoic face, quiet enough for only Lexa to hear but loud enough for the girl not to argue back. “You know what’s a great addition to any relationship, Woods? Communication.”

When she doesn’t reply straight away Anya turns back to her work and ignores Lexa. 

\---

She doesn’t talk to Clarke in person for the rest of the day. She texts her a few times and she presses a kiss against her cheek before they part for their separate classes, but she spends the rest of the day bleeding into the crowd and texting the blonde a transparent excuse that she needed to go home early. 

She knows she’s a bad person. She knows what she’s doing.

She just can’t stop. 

\---

“Lexa,” calls through her bedroom door and the girl barely turns from her laptop, her essay no further done than it had been when she’d opened it two hours earlier, before she makes a noise of approval for her mom to open the door. The older woman walks in with a warm smile and Lexa smiles back automatically. “Hey, baby.” 

“Hi.”

She sits on the bed, one hand on Lexa’s ankle and she closes the laptop slowly. “Want to tell me why there’s a very sad blonde girl standing at the bottom of the stairs?”

“She’s here?” Lexa feels herself light up a little before she deflates, sinking back into her pillows. “She’s sad?” 

“Mmm, she is,” her mom hums, her hand stroking softly at her daughters ankle and Lexa clenches her jaw tightly against whatever she can feel building in her chest. “About as sad as this girl sitting alone in her room right now.” 

At that Lexa feels the building force in her chest explode into a mess of regret and guilt. She knows how she’s feeling, how lost and confused and scared. Just knowing that Clarke might be feeling the same--that it might be worse because she isn’t the one causing it--hurts more than she was willing to admit. 

How could she ever think that backing off, that walking away from what they’re building together, was for the greater good? 

“Can you please send her up here? I want to talk to her in private, okay?”

“Are you going to make her cry?”

“Why does everyone keep asking me that?” 

At Lexa’s outburst, her mom stalls. “Because you’re very good at making decisions with your head, Lexa, but sometimes you need to trust your heart too.”

“Did you get that from a Lifetime movie?”

“I was at Grandma’s this afternoon, cut me some slack,” her mom laughs softly and Lexa sniffles, a smile breaking across her face. Lexa leans into her mom's hand when she reaches up to cup her face and closes her eyes against the soft kiss on her temple, feeling like a child once more. “I’ll send her up. Don’t be an ass.” 

“No promises.”

\---

It’s too quiet and it has been for too long. Clarke is sat on her bed but she doesn’t look comfortable and Lexa wrings her fingers a few times, completely lost in this new feeling of not being the confident one. She’s becoming more and more aware of how similar her and Clarke are though, despite the outward differences, and it makes her smile a little to herself. Not enough to break the tension in the room, not even enough to erase the marks that seem to have painted themselves onto her face, but it’s a smile that Clarke causes and...

Well, shouldn’t that be enough?

“If you’re over this or you want to bring it to an end or something, please just tell me now. I can deal with it. I’ve been preparing for the other shoe to drop for a long time and I’m a lot stronger than what people give me credit for. But if you’re about to walk away I need you to look me in the eyes and do it,” Clarke says firmly and her voice is so hard that Lexa pauses for a second in replying, too caught up in how tough the girl is becoming. And what’s worse -- Lexa did that, she’s turning the girl she met into a girl with walls, and she doesn’t want that for even a second. “Or you could just talk to me.”

At that, Lexa smiles again. “Yeah, I -- I really like you, Clarke. Almost too much.”

“It hasn’t felt like that the past two days.”

And Lexa really should have known that a pretty smile and an admission of liking her wouldn’t win her any favours. Clarke is stubborn and strong and intelligent; she looks for answers, she fights for justice, she doesn’t like taking shortcuts and Lexa can’t expect the girl to be okay with her actions because she pouted a little and edged around a ‘sorry’. 

“I know,” she sighs and shuffles closer, ignoring how her covers pile up between them, and she holds onto Clarke’s fingers softly. Getting her thoughts together is hard but she’s willing to do it for Clarke,  _ because  _ of Clarke. “I didn’t want you to feel like that. It’s not exactly going to win me any points but I haven’t been thinking about you much recently but that’s only because I’ve been thinking about  _ us  _ too much.” 

The crease in Clarke’s eyebrows deepens but she doesn’t pull away from Lexa’s hold, and for now it’s enough. “So you weren’t thinking about how your actions affected me because you were too busy worrying how they’d affect our relationship?” 

“I guess?”

“Lexa.”

“It’s just...Everyone has been on at me about you, Clarke. Everyone. From Costia to Bellamy and then those girls in the parking lot,” she’s frustrated but when Clarke’s thumb runs over her hand she knows that Clarke isn’t taking it personally. “It feels like I’m fighting some war just to spend time with you and I don’t understand why.”

This.

This was why she didn’t try in relationships.

This was why it was better being alone.

Because as much as she liked Clarke--(loved Clarke)--and as much as she wanted to be with her, wasn’t it all just going to inevitably fall apart anyway? Everyone thought so. Clarke was going to go and be a successful woman in her own right, and Lexa would too, but Clarke was making her thinking with her heart, not her head, and it was almost too much.

“So you’d rather just give up and walk away?” 

“No!”

“Then stay. Fight with me. I don’t care what everyone else says anymore, do you?” It was a lie if she said ‘no’ and when she hesitates, Clarke sighs. “There has to be more to life than being who they want you to be, Lexa. What do you want?”

This time there is no hesitation. “You.”

“Then prove it,” Clarke says. Her hands move from Lexa’s and in moments they’re cupping her cheeks, blue eyes taking in Lexa’s fears and worries. “I trust you, Lexa. If you ever make me feel like this again --” 

“I won’t,” she clarifies swiftly, her lips pressing against Clarke’s palm. “I swear, I won’t.”

\---

That night Lexa tells her everything. From her worries of being someone she can’t always be to the urge to prove herself to Clarke’s friends, despite everything in her body saying she doesn't care. She’s honest; honest about her feelings and her fears and her worries, and it isn’t as scary as she thought. 

She’s not perfect. She’ll never be perfect. But she’s going to try.

For her. 

“I love you,” she whispers into blonde hair, the words masked by soft snores and shifting hands. 

And God does it feel good to finally put into words.    
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> There might be more to this. Who knows?
> 
> Come yell at me on Tumblr: brokendevilwrites.tumblr.com


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